
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


QDD05bb3]i31 









































































**'♦. "V, 


c» a ' 


i f a <6 p>V 0 ft * . 

♦ 1 ^ 4 % ^ C° ••-*** ' <?■» ^ 

-%.a : 


°«f 



^ **•>■** jf - 0 * «• * 0 9 <y , *» * * ^ 

• <9 . O «0 * * ^*v 4.y * * 0 * <? A Av . * _ tfu f Itf^_ * 

r, . y* .4* v jtfMilW;«* ^ .s, /• V » <? 3» ♦ *p. /0> 

<?*• % -A¥ 4 ' <-o .<£ ♦SB®* 


\pv 






B§r," aS'’ <\. 'oM?* "'tSUi©* A v ^ "oVJ&.V/ 

TV* A <* * 0 ml* .6 \ 5 > 'TV* * V> <*'«•* 

*&. 0 ^ o 8M * **© A^ ♦ ’•'** ^ ,c 

^ Sato?ft?* r %T Cr •.aSS^Cm^- ° Sgr/tft&S- V> - 0 







; •< 8 ISsW 

’* 0 ° . V^\/ % 

V* • !_ V°* 


•* V^ v * 


* . s > 

«,.*** G^ -1 

»■". - 0 * *?-» ,-&P 



* %*: 4 ' 

>■* v* cr ;< 






«z* 

% o > ♦ 

: *6 v* ' 

/ i°'%. , 

.. % ‘ , \ % * * ° V , < • .. °*cv ' " ’ ' 9 ^ , ^ 

'* \ & yj®n& . & 4Va ,? ^ ^ ** 

} \wm??} -* V 'V ’J ?.* 

wp* a' ^ *-?.?i* d»- 

jV . V « * * <^A , 0 V a 0 ""* O A, v * * * ’ " 4 

iv r *r G * -cwv^ # . O J* 7 iJtjrP*-* v 



" 5 ? V’ i'Kf' 8’4 

«4 *0 aT ^6 , 0 ^ 


a 5' ZMJ//05>-* ^ 4 


^oV" 


V "«tT 9 ^ ^ A 0 ## V, 




% J * 
vv 



<* cl^ * 

; - 

• * * J> , o *^T‘ A < 

0 . Vtf5N\.#* . ° ♦iBry ^2,% '*3V ^ 

; *b£ : M ^- - ^o" 5 

* « 0 y, • 

> ^ ^ ^ “ 

* ,0 


^0 





A*. 4 


o' 

o q* 

• A,r o 

*»® sy °<t 

* 4 /** ^Cck .BUS* 

v < * r\» o *• * # r ^Q 

• Of A„ 

K o_ S*W*S ft 0 "V 



^ / V'^’V ° 4 .‘‘-‘V .. " 


S. 5 > -V ^ e 
, XfV 1 

■ ‘ •'“; \ 

-% '“•*** ^ ,. %, 

. I » I . W. fv ft ° p * ♦ o AV 

% o * .i^ * 



r<*. a *■ 

•« 




O • » 


t- 0 ^ 


v 1 *- / V-^'y ^ 

» • **> 4 > *<*<». c> t 0 ^ • * • • '* V* * * • o A 




• * * 









k ^AQ* _ 

*P ^ -l 

^ ^ v ‘o **V ., "v 

i • o # (^ A » ' . V f i » o, (j. Q* % t + <V 

/«i pv - A a ~ _ lr «. /) rs k . A ^ 


° ^rv ** 

. • 

© aV«* * 0 

' • • ** ^ v 

A*' ** 

*b/ :iMk^ ”W 






* & .. % 4 
.0 V & °JL ♦ *o 
0 * o 

0 







c 


© 

*v>v * 

* v & * 

‘ A 

J> yJX*. ’+* & . 

■ s .*. \ 0 < o', 

* 4 o 

* # ^ ^ ^ * 

V * f • °a V tO 7 i*^L% v »1*°- 

• ^ A* ^Va° ^ ^ A^ *V^Ve ^ 

: ve*<v °*v ; vv : 

* /\ : *I1P>* <?\ % ^m : ,/\ • 

’«. »* .6^" *o. *<a?* A <> '••»* ,0 




O' .O, % > 

,* '^n* '>o V* '* 



* w r «i 

>* i- 0 % v 

°o o° V 1 

% \ <? oV ^ - 

X 

% 


<9 aV*\ 0 

* <y t£» 10 


* ( <6/ * 

4 *£* * THBV^T & - 

* # • " V > 'W -©*** tO ****** ^ %a 

,& # v » * * t£. q> . © s *« 4 ^ 9 i * * ^ '<£. 

> SarM>?** %r 0 *j£5$W\ ^ 4 4* ♦* 

^ *tu r$ oV^SSjffi\* 4 





^ ‘"^K ; ^ ^ ^ •M f . : a 10 ^ -* 

... ^ ’»»«* *' 1 **o f0 ,.♦• *" * ’>*.,. .y% 

* v <\ <b **».« 4 * jCt 5- ’b*?*Y<* v <\ 

,o^ .^v<, # ,*^,;% ^ c° O o 

Ka .v^ICV. .*< ^ ^ 


0 

v y 



i• aP V 

**•» *0 aO^ t*’’' , 4 'V- 


•o <A' 
l 

o aV^, * 0 

/ ^ V- - 

• • • 4 C «> ” ° * k 




■ V" .'/ 
• •: 



2*^ 

♦ #*% • 

<« (, V ^ 

^ . e . * ft ^ 



.0^ ^ 



» 'bft 

"•.o 0 

V • ’ •*- ° 


4 9 

















THE CENTRAL TOWER, CATHEDRAL—BURGOS, SPAIN. 





























Glimpses of Latin Europe 


( 


By THOMAS J. KENNY, A. PA., S. T. B. 

W 




JOHN MURPHY COMPANY 

Publishers 

200 W. LOMBARD STREET BALTIMORE, MD 

R. CBL T. WASHBOURNE, Ltd., 


1, 2 and 4 Paternoster Row, London. 


248 Buchanan Street, Glasgow. 



31 <n % 
,K^ 


Copyright, 1913 by 

JOHN MURPHY COMPANY 



Press of JOHN MURPHY COMPANY, Baltimore 


©litA35464tt 

A / 


TO MY SISTERS 

For whose loving interest, these notes oi 
travel in Foreign Lands were originally 
penned, this volume is affectionately 
dedicated. 



( 







FOREWORD. 


Napoleon, the great Corsican, is reported to 
have said of the private soldiers in his vast armies 
that each of them carried a Field-Marshars 
baton in his knapsack. Of the large army of 
Americans who at one time or another in the 
course of their lives cross the Atlantic to visit the 
cities and shrines, historic, religious or artistic, of 
the Old World, it may be safely affirmed that a 
goodly proportion include in the equipment for 
the voyage a note-book or two for the purpose of 
recording personal observations and impressions. 
The writer was one of these, and in the follow¬ 
ing pages has endeavored to revise and amplify 
a portion of the notes taken in a recent and ex¬ 
tended tour of Europe. The Latin countries— 
Spain, Southern France and Italy—form the 
subject of his narrative, with an additional chap¬ 
ter on Morocco. 

Whilst the greater number of scenes and places 
described in the following chapters are more or 
less familiar to the seasoned tourist, the writer 
cherishes the hope that for the stay-at-homes, at 
least, the story of his travels in the cradle-lands 
of our modern civilization may prove interest¬ 
ing, if not instructive. 



CONTENTS 


Page 

Foreword . v 

Gibraltar . 3 

Morocco—T angiers . 7 

Spain— 

Cadiz . 21 

Seville . 36 

Cordova . 51 

Granada—The Alhambra . 59 

Madrid—The XXII International Eucharistic Congress 77 

The Escorial . 103 

Toledo . 110 

Segovia—Valladolid—Burgos . 119 

Southern France— 

Biarritz—Bayonne—Pau . 143 

Lourdes . 152 

Toulouse—Carcasonne—Narbonne . 193 

Beziers—Nimes—Arles . 201 

Marseilles . 206 

The Riviera . 212 

Italy— 

Genoa .. 221 

Pisa . 225 

Rome—Forum—Colosseum—The Palatine . 232 

St. Peter’s. 245 

St. Paul’s . 256 

St. John Lateran. 262 

St. Mary Major. 267 

San Lorenzo . 270 



























▼Hi 


CONTENTS. 


Italy— 

St. Peter in Chains. 273 

Santa Croce . 275 

The Catacombs . 278 

Santa Maria Trastevere—St. Cecilia.281 

The Pantheon . 285 


The Mamertine Prisons—The Capitol—Vatican Galleries 287 


Pius X. 294 

Naples . 300 

Pompeii . 307 

Monte Cassino . 312 

4 Sienna . 318 

Florence . 326 

Venice . 347 

Padua—Milan . 362 















ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

THE CENTRAL TOWER, CATHEDRAL, BURGOS, SPAIN 

( Frontispiece ) ^ 

CATHEDRAL—CADIZ, SPAIN . 32 

CATHEDRAL—SEVILLE, SPAIN . 44 

CATHEDRAL—CORDOVA, SPAIN . 56 ; 

THE ALHAMBRA—SPAIN . 75 ' 

THE ESCORIAL—SPAIN. 104 Z' 

CATHEDRAL—TOLEDO, SPAIN . 118 

CATHEDRAL—SEGOVIA, SPAIN . 120^ 

CATHEDRAL—BURGOS, SPAIN . 126 

INTERIOR OF CATHEDRAL—BURGOS, SPAIN. 130 

/ 

CHURCH OF THE HOLY ROSARY—LOURDES, FRANCE. 152 

GABRIEL GARGAM. 174 1 

CHURCH OF ST. SERNIN—TOULOUSE, FRANCE. 196 

CARCASONNE—FRANCE . 200 

CATHEDRAL—MARSEILLES, FRANCE . 210 

INTERIOR OF CAMPO SANTO—GENOA. 224 

CATHEDRAL AND LEANING TOWER—PISA. 230 

INTERIOR BASILICA OF ST. PAUL WITHOUT THE WALLS— 

ROME . 260 

INTERIOR BASILICA OF ST. JOHN LATERAN—ROME. 264 / 

INTERIOR BASILICA OF ST. MARY THE GREATER—ROME. . 268 

INTERIOR OF CHURCH OF SANTA MARIA TRASTEVERE— 

ROME . 282 






















i 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


THE PANTHEON, OR ST. MARY OF THE MARTYRS—ROME. 

ABBEY CHURCH AND TOMB OF ST. BENEDICT AND ST. 
SCHOLASTICA—MONTE CASSINO . 

THE FACADE, CATHEDRAL—SIENNA. ITALY. 

CATHEDRAL—FLORENCE, ITALY . 

CHURCH OF SANTA CROCE—FLORENCE, ITALY. 

ST. MARK’S CATHEDRAL—VENICE, ITALY. 

CHURCH OF SAN ANTONIO—PADUA, ITALY. 

THE FACADE, LA CERTOSA—PAVIA, ITALY. 

HIGH ALTAR, MONASTERY CHURCH—LA CERTOSA— 

PAVIA, ITALY. 



316 

320 ' 
330 


336 ^ 
352 
364 
372 


374 












GIBRALTAR 


















GIBRALTAR 


I T was, indeed, a delightful sensation after a 
pleasant, restful and exhilarating voyage of 
nine days across the placid Atlantic, to awaken 
early on a beautiful June morning to find our 
steamer anchored under the shadow of frowning 
Gibraltar, themightyfortressof Britannia, which, 
like a crouching lion, its mane gilded by the rays 
of the rising sun, and its huge tawny flank resting 
upon the sand, guards with ever sleepless eye the 
entrance to the Mediterranean. A lion, in truth, 
it has been to Spain from the time that Tarick 
fortified it and gave it his name, Gebel-Tarick, 
to its seizure by the English in 1704, whose con¬ 
tinued possession constitutes a perpetual menace 
to the security of the Iberian peninsula. 

Eager to set foot for the first time on the his¬ 
toric soil of the Old World, we boarded the 
ship’s tender in the Bay of Algeciras, and as we 
approached the shore we obtained a full view of 
the magnificent “Rock,” which rose before us 
fifteen hundred feet high, grand and impressive. 
As we approached nearer, we saw the batteries 
peering out from the mountain sides, rising tier 
above tier, fearful even in their repose. On every 
jutting rock, every available spot, were towers 
and fortifications pointing towards Africa and 
Spain, and menacing both with their fatal 
strength. Passing under the archway that leads 
to the town, we encountered the red-coated sen- 


4 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


tinels, the representatives of the military glory 
and majesty of the British Empire, of “a power 
to which, for the purposes of foreign conquest 
and subjugation, Rome in the height of her glory 
is not to be compared; a power which has dotted 
over the whole surface of the globe with her pos¬ 
sessions and military posts, whose military drum¬ 
beat, following the sun, and keeping company 
with the hours, circles the earth daily with one 
continuous and unbroken strain of the martial 
airs of England.” 

Once within the city gates, we found ourselves 
in an old, but to us a new, world, which at every 
moment offered unusual and more or less pleas¬ 
ant sensations. In the main street of Gibraltar, 
which winds its narrow way up the steep moun¬ 
tain side, one met, it seemed, all the tribes and 
races of the earth, for the town is a veritable Ba¬ 
bel of nations—Moors, Arabs, Ethiopians, Egyp¬ 
tians, English, French, Dutch and Scotch-Span- 
ish, Irish and Portuguese, Turks, Jews, Mesopo¬ 
tamians and “dwellers beyond Jordan,” with 
every variety of tongues and dialects. The place 
gives one his first impressions of the Orient, and 
one could easily imagine, as he walked through 
the narrow streets, without sidewalks, lined on 
both sides with houses of solid construction, and 
painted in colors of varied hues, with glass-em¬ 
bowered balconies above the ground floor, that 
he was in far-away Cairo, in the land of the Pha¬ 
raohs. Seated comfortably in a chair on the 





Gibraltar. 


5 


hotel porch, the stranger from across the Atlan¬ 
tic could see, in a sense, the whole world pass 
before him in review, while his ears would be 
assailed by the confused jabbering of almost 
every tongue, civilized and savage, on the face 
of the earth. A guide later conducted us to the 
points of interest usually shown to the tourist— 
the barracks, the officers’ quarters, the beautiful 
semi-tropical gardens, the cemetery where re¬ 
pose the remains of the officers and soldiers who 
gave up their lives in the successful siege of 
Gibraltar, the enormous dockyards where ships 
of the British fleet are fitted out and repaired, 
and many others. The most conspicuous object 
that dominated the landscape after the “Rock” 
itself is what is known as the Moorish Castle. 
This Moorish tower is said to have been erected 
more than one thousand years ago. Time has 
left some wrinkles on its rugged face, and the 
artillery of the beleaguering hosts in the great 
siege many ugly scars and wounds, but, judging 
from its massiveness, it seems destined for cen¬ 
turies to come to bid defiance alike to the powers 
of the elements and man. 

Being a minister of peace, however, and not 
of war, I was naturally interested in the work of 
the Church amongst this heterogeneous popula¬ 
tion, and turned my steps toward the Cathedral. 
It is located on the main thoroughfare of the 
town, and is severely plain architecturally. The 
diocese, or, rather, Vicariate Apostolic, of 



6 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Gibraltar is administered by the English Bene¬ 
dictines. The Rt. Rev. Bishop Monsignor 
Thompson, O. S. B., who had but recently as¬ 
sumed charge, is a man in the prime of life and 
of winning manners. He informed me that of 
the 25,000 inhabitants of Gibraltar, between 16,- 
000 and 18,000 professed themselves Catholics, 
though a great part of them are extremely lax 
in the performance of their religious obligations. 
This unsatisfactory condition of affairs, which 
he hopes to remedy in time, he ascribes to the 
peculiar environment of the place. Gibraltar is 
a free port, and, as such, a favorite rendezvous 
for smugglers and other like undesirable charac¬ 
ters. Under his guidance we inspected the inte¬ 
rior of the Cathedral, the first we have seen in 
Europe, and were disappointed. The architec¬ 
ture is deplorable, a mixture of Gothic and Ro¬ 
manesque, a relic of the Spanish regime. The 
candlesticks of the high altar are of pure silver, 
a product of the mines of the New World, in the 
days when Spain was mistress of the American 
continent. Leaving the Cathedral, we turned to 
the direction of the famous “Line” which marks 
the boundaries of the English and Spanish juris¬ 
dictions. It was late in the evening, and thou¬ 
sands of workingmen, artisans, mechanics and 
laborers were returning from their daily toil to 
pass the night with their families at their homes 
in that part of the peninsula where waves the red 
and yellow standard of old Castile. 


MOROCCO 






TANGIERS. 


A T a comparatively short distance of thir¬ 
ty-six miles from Gibraltar, across the 
Mediterranean, is situated the city of 
Tangiers, the principal seaport of the now 
defunct Moorish Empire, and the nearest large 
town to Europe of the African continent. The 
narrow lane of water that separates them marks 
the line of cleavage between civilization and 
semi-barbarism. After a rough, tempestuous 
passage, our steamer cast anchor in the road¬ 
stead. The landing was made in small boats 
in a boisterous sea, and the scenes witnessed 
were decidedly the most unique in our expe¬ 
rience. A dozen or two rowboats, manned 
by sturdy Moors of varying shades of color, 
approached the steamer about a mile from 
land, and prepared to transport passengers and 
baggage. As the small craft were constantly 
tossed about by the turbulent waves, and as the 
dark-visaged boatmen struggled for patronage 
the shouting and cries in the harsh guttural 
tongue of Islam, and the wild and menacing ges¬ 
ticulations of the dusky Arabs towards one an¬ 
other, produced a spectacle, to the stranger, most 
amusing, if not bewildering. The Moors are an 
excitable race, and in this respect seem to be close¬ 
ly allied to the Southern Latin nations of Europe. 
After much confusion and delay, we finally dis- 


IO 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


embarked, and reached our hotel situated at the 
extremity of the town. After a brief rest we 
procured a Moorish guide, and started on a tour 
of inspection. The first impressions of Tangiers 
as seen approaching from the sea are extremely 
favorable. It is built on a steep hillside over¬ 
looking a most beautiful bay. The houses seem 
to be spotlessly white, with here and there a 
dwelling of blue, pink, or lavender shades, sug¬ 
gesting a picture truly Eastern. A closer inspec¬ 
tion, however, quickly dissipates one’s illusions. 
I have always cherished a strong desire to visit 
the mystic, magical Orient, and I believe I have 
been thoroughly cured of my longings, especi¬ 
ally as my reverend travelling companion, who 
spent some time in Jerusalem, Egypt, and other 
parts of the Mohammedan dominions, assured 
me that conditions there were many times worse. 
For more than two hours we trudged along nar¬ 
row ill-smelling alleys, called by courtesy streets, 
lined by dark, dingy, low-storied buildings, 
crowded to suffocation by the miserable natives, 
and the more we saw the more we became dis¬ 
gusted. The lowest negro quarters in the worst 
districts of our American cities appear paragons 
of comfort and cleanliness compared to the 
streets of this Moorish city. Not a vehicle of 
any description is to be found within the town’s 
limits, as the highways are so narrow that only 
donkeys are able to navigate them. These 
beasts are everywhere, each followed by an Arab 


Morocco. 


11 

who half pushes, half beats them along. The 
Moors may be a degree in advance of the civili¬ 
zation of the American negro, but the question 
seems fairly open to debate. This statement ap¬ 
plies, however, more to his personal habits than 
his mental capacity. They also are addicted 
to the Negroes’ weakness for loud colors, and 
may be seen clothed in all the glories of the 
rainbow. At our hotel, for example, the servant 
who waited at table was dressed in a robe of 
gorgeous red, while the other domestics wore 
garments of yellow, blue, pink, brown and other 
flashy shades. The women wear white dresses 
of coarse texture, in many instances sadly in need 
of the washtub, and, as a rule, are barefooted. 
The average Moorish woman has probably 
never worn shoes or stockings in her life. As in 
most Mahomedan countries, her social condition, 
due in great measure to the disgusting institution 
of polygamy, which is a cardinal point in the 
Moslem creed, is hardly above the level of a 
beast of burden. It is a pathetic sight to see them 
traversing the streets of the town, on their way to 
the market place, after a journey of many miles 
from their homes in the country, almost bent 
double under the weight of a load of twigs or 
wood, vegetables, or other kinds of market pro¬ 
duce. In some instances they are compelled to 
carry a quantity of bricks on their backs for 
building operations at their homes, as a return 
cargo. 


12 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


The shops in which they carry on their buying 
and selling are, in most cases, little larger than 
kennels, with very little ventilation and almost 
no light. These semi-barbarous conditions pre¬ 
vail in a country which has professed Islamism 
for a thousand years. The contrast between the 
civilization that obtains on either side of the 
Strait of Gibraltar, compels the admission that 
Mohammedanism is a blight and a curse on any 
nation that has accepted its creed. It cannot 
possibly stand comparison with Christianity, and 
the only signs of progress to be noted anywhere 
in this vicinity are a few excellent, mercantile, 
charitable and religious institutions erected and 
maintained by Europeans. The Moslem’s ha¬ 
tred of the “Giaour'' is as undying as ever, and 
a rash tourist who w r ould venture to defile with 
his presence the precincts of a Moorish mosque 
would pay for his temerity with his life. What 
would have been the condition of Europe today 
if the Cross had been vanquished by the Cresent, 
one shudders to think when contemplating the 
conditions that reveal themselves in this strong¬ 
hold of Islamism at the beginning of the twen¬ 
tieth century. The Turk is an incubus on the 
progress of the race, and the more his dominion 
extends in the Dark Continent, the more hope¬ 
less the outlook for Christian missionary enter¬ 
prise. 

In this connection, the statement may be haz¬ 
arded, that much useless and maudlin sympathy, 


Morocco. 


13 


at the expense of a noble and chivalrous people, 
has been wasted by certain modern writers and 
lecturer-travelers on the expulsion of the Moors 
from Spain. That the reign of the Caliphs for 
two or three centuries, in the land which they 
conquered and held by the sword, constitutes a 
period of exceptionally brilliant achievements, 
intellectual and material, is freely granted, but 
the unqualified inference that the marvelous de¬ 
velopment of this epoch is due solely to the 
spirit and genius of Islam seems open to question. 
In the light of its centuries’ old dominion else¬ 
where, in Arabia, Palestine, Egypt, Asia Minor 
and Eastern Europe, one naturally hesitates be¬ 
fore accepting such a conclusion. That early 
Christian civilization was stamped out in those 
once-flourishing regions under the hoofs of the 
Mohammedan chargers, history attests, and 
their present unhappy condition amply evi¬ 
dences. How then, to account for the remark¬ 
able phenomenon—for phenomenon it is—of the 
blossoming forth of a high degree of civilization 
and unrivalled culture, under the Moslems of 
Southern Spain? The key to the answer seems 
to be found in the fact that when the Moors 
crossed the Mediterranean, they invaded a land 
which, for centuries, enjoyed a highly developed 
Roman and Christian civilization. Three Ro¬ 
man emperors sprang from Spanish soil, and, al¬ 
though the Visigoths swept over the peninsula 
after the fall of the Roman Empire, nevertheless 



Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


14 

the numerous councils or synods of the Chris¬ 
tian Church held in Spain from the famous 
council of Elvira in 301 A. D., at which the 
great Hosius, Bishop of Cordova, afterwards 
the presiding prelate in the name of the Pope 
at the first general council of Nice, was present, 
down to the period of Arab domination, testify 
to the enlightened condition of the native popu¬ 
lation at the time when the Crescent of Moham¬ 
med waved in triumph over their beloved fa¬ 
therland. The Moor, in justice it must be said, 
quickly assimilated many of the best elements 
of the civilization by which he found himself en¬ 
vironed. “He became a very different being 
from his kinsmen in Northern Africa. He 
learned to gather libraries, not to commit them 
to the flames, as the erstwhile Caliph Omar at 
Alexandria, to express himself in buildings, 
where he translated his nomad carpet into col¬ 
ored stucco. By mutual and friendly contact, 
and enlightened toleration, Moor and Christian 
engaged in a spirit of generous rivalry to obtain 
for the kingdom the most illustrious renown for 
culture and refinement in the entireworld.”* The 
final eclipse of this, the one and only brilliant in¬ 
tellectual epoch in the history of Islamism, was 
due, we venture to assert, in great measure to the 
rulers themselves, who gradually degenerated 
from the high standards of their predecessors, and 
who, instead of applying their energies towards 


* E. Boyle O’Reilly. Heroic Spain. 



Morocco. 


15 


the advancement of learning and science, and 
the material prosperity of their realm, occupied 
themselves in incessant domestic dissensions, 
cruelties, and petty tyrannies until their power 
broken, and their resistance enfeebled by pro¬ 
longed excesses, a more vigorous and hardy race, 
the noble sons of “heroic Spain” were enabled to 
enter once more into their own. History rec¬ 
ords no brighter page than the story of that 
eight hundred years’ struggle of the brave and 
chivalrous Spanish people for the possession of 
their native soil, and the preservation of their 
national Faith. As the consummate bravery 
and Christian fortitude of Hunniades, Scander- 
beg and Sobieski on the Eastern confines of 
European civilization formed an impregnable 
barrier against which the hordes of fanatical 
Moslems threatening Central and Northern 
Europe dashed in vain, so the heroism, sacrifices 
and granite-like perseverance of Catholic Spain 
closed the gates of Southern Europe against the 
incursions of the Barbarians of the almost limit¬ 
less African deserts. And what has been the 
measure of appreciation she has received at the 
hands of those who have shared to the fullest ex¬ 
tent in the benefits to civilization, which she 
achieved by her unexampled courage and the 
immortal glory of her military exploits? Alien 
pens, steeped in malice or bigotry, or both, pro¬ 
foundly ignorant of her history, her institutions, 
her classic tongue and her national religion, have 


16 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

pictured her in colors that reveal the depth of 
their malignity, and the density of their intelli¬ 
gence. They seem to forget, or wilfully to ig¬ 
nore the immense services which Spain has ren¬ 
dered to the progress of civilization, not only by 
her ceaseless warfare, against the destructive 
forces of Mohammedanism, but in an especial 
manner in her discovery of the New World—an 
event without parallel in the records of any other 
people in the history of the world. Time, how¬ 
ever, that unerring acid that tests all things, has 
justified the Spaniard in ridding his country of 
his inveterate and implacable enemies. The 
Moor, driven back to his original confines, aban¬ 
doned to his own Moslem environment, quickly 
reverted to the type of Mohemmedan civiliza¬ 
tion so familiar to travelers in Oriental lands. 
The culture and refinement of the Cordovan 
Caliphs were but an exotic which speedily 
withered when exposed to the unprotected rays of 
the scorching sun of Islamism. 

Another consideration forces itself upon the 
stranger in Tangiers when he sees the primitive 
sanitary conditions that obtain there. With our 
modern, scientific, hygienic methods, and other 
theories of the medical world of today, one 
would imagine that such repulsive conditions 
could not possibly exist amongst any people as 
prevail there without some terrible pestilence 
breaking out and sweepingaway the vast majority 
of the population. And yet, strange to say, men 



Morocco. 


17 


and women live and thrive in that vitiated atmos¬ 
phere, and seem to succumb, as a rule, only to the 
infirmities of old age. It might be inferred in 
consequence, that sometimes there is a wide dis¬ 
crepancy between theory and practice in this, as 
in other departments of medical science. 

Our second day in Morocco dawned bright 
and clear—a perfect summer, or rather, spring 
day. The most agreeable surprise to the tourist 
in Northern Africa is the equable climate. 
From what may be gleaned from the persual of 
books of travel, the impression is gained that the 
trip to Tangiers must be paid for in profuse per¬ 
spiration, and great physical discomfort. We 
were fortunate to experience the exact contrary. 
A more ideal climate could scarcely be imagined. 
Although the sun at this season of the year is 
very powerful, it is at the same time quite cool 
in the shade. The temperature of the last two 
days has registered scarcely 75 degrees, whilst 
at night blankets are a necessity. 

On an eminence behind our hotel stands a 
beautiful new church, school and convent, in 
charge of the Franciscan Fathers of the Spanish 
Province, which commands a splendid view of 
the city and bay. In the course of a pleasant 
conversation, they informed us that the work of 
converting the Mohammedans to the saving and 
ennobling truths of Christianity is an almost im¬ 
possible task, as the traditional hatred and scorn 
of the Moslems for the followers of the Cross 


i8 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


constitute an almost impregnable barrier to so¬ 
cial contact and religious enlightenment. The 
first Catholic mission in the country after 
a lapse of more than six hundred years, 
when the Roman dominion was extinguished, 
was organized in 1234, when Father Angelo, 

a Franciscan friar and papal legate, was ap¬ 
pointed Bishop of Morocco. The succession 
lasted until 1566, when the see was suppressed 
and its jurisdiction confided to the archbishop of 
Seville. In 1631, the Prefecture Apostolic of 
Morocco was founded. Its first bishop, Blessed 
Giovanni da Prado, of the Franciscan Order, 
obtained the martyr’s crown the same year when 
he met a barbarous death inthecity of Marrakesh, 
at the hands of the fierce and fanatical Arabs. 
Undismayed by the bitter hostility and cruelty 
of the Moors, other noble sons of St. Francis con¬ 
tinued to exercise their ministry through trials 
and persecutions of every kind until 1859, when 
the Prefecture was reorganized on its present 
basis. There are, in Morocco, about 10,000 
Catholics, nearly all Europeans, 24 missionaries 
of the Order of St. Francis, 8 churches, 16 
schools, with 1,200 children, and a hospital in 
Tangiers. The Fathers are a splendid body of 
men of profound learning and unaffected piety. 
In discussing with them the difficulties of their 
mission, and the prospects of the ultimate con¬ 
version of the Moors, one could not fail to be im¬ 
pressed by the sincerity of their zeal for souls, 


Morocco. 


19 


and their entire readiness to endure all things in 
the cause of Christ. They are worthy sons of 
their great Founder, “the sweet saint of Assisi,” 
whose thirst for souls was surpassed only by his 
love of God. 

One of the chief features of this Moorish city 
is the “Soko,” or market place, which affords 
much interest to the tourist or strangers. It is 
situated in a large open square, in the centre of 
the town, and here on certain days of the week 
are gathered thousands of the followers of Mo¬ 
hammed from all the neighboring country, who 
assemble for the purpose of trade, buying and 
selling goods of every kind, from a loaf of bread 
to a full-grown donkey. The shrill cries of the 
venders, the loud braying of the beasts of burden, 
and the ceaseless chattering of the natives, in all 
the languages and jargons of the African desert, 
afford a unique spectacle to the visitor from 
across the Atlantic. 

One quickly exhausts, however, the points of 
interest here, and turning to the hotel, situated 
along the beach on the outskirts of the town, we 
passed the remainder of the second day’s sojourn 
sitting in a rustic pavilion overlooking the sea. 
Tangiers is one of the most beautifully situated 
places that can be imagined. The shores of 
Europe and Africa, bold and rugged in their 
outlines, are separated at this point only by the 
Strait of Gibraltar, about fifteen miles wide. 
The bay on which the city is located, and where 


20 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


could be seen French, Spanish, Italian and Eng¬ 
lish warships riding at anchor, resembles the 
loveliness of an Italian lake in the picturesque¬ 
ness of its surroundings. Nature has been gen¬ 
erous to this spot, where 

“Every prospect pleases, 

And only man is vile.” 

It is difficult to realize that this sea-girt land of 
Northern Africa, from Egypt on the extreme 
eastern shores of the Mediterranean, to the pil¬ 
lars of Hercules in the west, was in the early 
centuries of our era, one of the most flourishing 
portions of the Christian Church—the home of 
that gigantic intellect, St. Augustine, that fearless 
champion of the Faith, St. Cyprian, and other 
lights of that golden epoch which was to end in 
a deluge of blood, Barbarism and Mohammedan¬ 
ism. 


SPAIN 



CADIZ. 


A PERFECT morning greeted us as we 
made preparations for our departure 
from Tangiers. A little before noon 
we embarked with our luggage, and were 
conveyed in a small boat manned by sturdy 
Arabs, wildly jabbering and gesticulating at 
one another, in a rough sea, to a fine vessel of 
the Compania Transatlantica lying at anchor in 
the roadstead for our voyage to Spain. A more 
delightful trip could scarcely be desired. The 
Atlantic was calm and of a deep sky-blue, the 
shores of the two continents were always in view, 
and as we passed historic Trafalgar, the courte¬ 
ous and well-informed Spanish captain pointed 
out the spot where, on that fateful day, in the fall 
of 1805, Nelson’s great victory over the combined 
fleets of France and Spain, gave England that 
unequalled supremacy of the sea, 'which has 
never since been seriously questioned. As our 
vessel approached the harbor jf Cadiz, the view 
of the city from the deck was exceptionally en¬ 
trancing. Jutting far out to sea, with only a nar¬ 
row strip of land, eight miles long, connecting it 
with the mainland, it is perhaps the most pic¬ 
turesquely situated city in the entire world. Seen 
from the Atlantic, it seemed like a pure white 
swan, resting on the ocean, a fairy city issuing 


3 


24 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


from the waves; the dazzling whiteness of hun¬ 
dreds of roof-terraces, the colored tiles of the Ca¬ 
thedral towers dominating the sky-line, the 
crested waves of the Atlantic dashing their 
spray to the top of the sea walls, all com¬ 
bined to form a picture so stunning and 
ravishing in its beauty as to leave its im¬ 
press on the mind of the traveller forever. 
On reaching the city, the illusion was not dis¬ 
pelled, as at Tangiers, for the streets were spot¬ 
lessly clean and swept and scrubbed like 

those of a Dutch village. The principal thor¬ 
oughfares are lined on both sides with an impos¬ 
ing array of buildings, mostly dwellings, which, 
for solidity of construction and architectural 
beauty, are a revelation to the stranger. They 
seem to have been built for eternity. Many of 
them date back to the golden epoch of her his¬ 
tory, when Cadiz was a wealthier place than 
London, and the richest city in the world. 
Vivid green balconies rise from the second 
floor to the top of the high houses, which are 
crowned by “miradors,” small towers, formerly 
built by the merchants, from which they could 
spy their returning galleons laden with rich car¬ 
goes from the Indies and the New World. In 
the centre of each house is a “patio,” an institu¬ 
tion truly Spanish, and a feature found in nearly 
every home in Southern Spain. A “patio” is a 
marble paved and tiled court, around which 
the house is built in the shape of a hollow square. 


Spain. 


25 


All the inner floors open on the “patio,” which is 
frequently adorned with running fountains, and 
majestic palms, and supplies recreation besides 
light and ventilation to every room. Apart from 
the narrowness of the streets, which is a result 
of the necessity of protection from the rays of a 
semi-tropical sun, this small Spanish munici¬ 
pality of 75,000 inhabitants, with its parks and 
squares, its imposing and richly furnished 
churchs, its art galleries and museums is hardly 
surpassed by even the foremost cities of America. 
Running back to almost fabulous antiquity, as so 
many of the Spanish towns, Cadiz boasts an 
origin more certainly ancient than any of them. 
It was, doubtless, in the minds of the Sacred 
Writers when they spoke of the “Ultima Thule” 
—“the uttermost part of the earth,” the place be¬ 
yond which all was void. The first well-attested 
record of its origin is its foundation by the 
Phoenicians, four hundred years before Rome. 
To these earliest of navigators it was a place of 
some importance, and when their dominion over 
the sea was usurped by the Carthaginians, it still 
grew in importance; nor did it suffer declining 
prosperity until the latter, in their turn gave way 
to the Romans. Under their powerful Empire 
it became the theatre of sensual refinement. 
Horace and other writers of Rome’s palmy liter¬ 
ature would seem to have thought to expiate the 
sin of the Eternal City by their attacks on the 
grosser sensuality of the inhabitants of Cadiz, 


26 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the “improbae Gaditanae.” “Since poverty has 
been banished,” exclaims Juvenal, “the pleasures 
of the Sybarites, of Rhodes, and debauched 
Cadiz have been introduced and domesticated 
among our hills.” Partaking of the prosperity 
if contributing to the vices of Rome, Cadiz de¬ 
clined with her. 

An episode in the history of Cadiz is its tem¬ 
porary occupation by Sertorius, a general who 
wanted but a larger field and more propitious 
fortune to have rivaled Rome’s great comman¬ 
der. Driven from Italy by Sylla, he crossed the 
Pyrenees, entered Spain, and raised the country 
against the Roman power. Of raw levies of bar¬ 
barians he made soldiers, equal in discipline and 
valor to Sylla’s conquering legions; he defeated 
several times the troops sent against him, and for 
a while maintained an equal contest with Pom- 
pey himself, fresh from his Asiatic victories. 
In fact, but for the opportune arrival of Metel- 
lus, no one occasion, he would have routed that 
great general, and with a much inferior force; 
“If that old woman had not come up, I would 
have flogged this boy back to Rome,” he said. 

A greater, too, than Sertorius, Hannibal, the 
conqueror of Italy, and, had he known better 
how to use than to gain victories, the master of 
Rome, has rendered Cadiz historic by his pres¬ 
ence. After he had taken Saguntum and was on 
his way to Rome with one hundred thou¬ 
sand men—not half of whom, however, crossed 



Spain. 


27 


the Alps with him—he stopped at Cadiz, to re¬ 
new the vow of vengeance he had taken in 
early youth against the Eternal City. A greater 
than Hannibal, greater than the conqueror of 
Hannibal, Julius Caezar himself came here on 
the defeat of Sextus Pompeius at Munda to pay 
his homage to the colossal statue of Alexander. 
He is said to have wept as he contemplated the 
statue, because at an age when the Macedonians 
had conquered the world, he had done nothing 
worthy of commemoration. Such men give 
power to places when they are but sojourners, il¬ 
lustrate their annals and emblazon their fame. 

The Goths who pillaged Rome, likewise sack¬ 
ed Cadiz. The Arabs succeeded them as masters 
of the Spanish city which never recovered under 
their sway its former lustre. Alonzo, the Wise, 
“el Sabio,” the King James I. of Spanish annals, 
retook it from the Moors in 1262, and two cen¬ 
turies later, with the discovery of the New 
World, whose ships of treasure anchored off its 
ramparts, Cadiz enjoyed a rich trade, and a re¬ 
vived importance. It was taken and sacked in 
1596 by the English admiral, the Earl of 
Essex, whilst Drake and his contemporaneous 
buccaneers of the Spanish Main by their inter¬ 
cepting of the heavily laden galleons on their 
return from the South American colonies dried 
up the streams of its prosperity and accelerated 
its decline. It was a^ain twice attacked by the 
English during the seventeenth century, but 


28 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


unsuccessfully. In modern times, the plucky 
little city standing out in the Atlantic, proudly 
proclaims itself the birthplace of Spanish 
constitutional government and political liber¬ 
ty. In the old church of St. Philip Neri met the 
Cortes or Parliament, after their hundred years’ 
suppression under the grinding absolutism of 
the Hapsburgs and Bourbons. Here they drew 
up the Constitution of 1812, which boldly de¬ 
clared that the sovereignty of the nation lay in 
the Cortes, and not in the King, that the king 
existed for the people, and not the people for the 
king, the latter an assumption maintained by 
royal despots for centuries. The Inquisition, an 
institution, for generations purely political, an 
engine of the upholders of absolutism, was sol¬ 
emnly abolished by the Assembly gathered with¬ 
in the walls of this church, and a tablet affixed 
to the historic edifice indelibly records the fact. 

But to return to the Cadiz of today. Our ar¬ 
rival coincided with the afternoon of the feast 
of Corpus Christi, a national as well as religi¬ 
ous holiday in Spain, and the entire city was en 
fete. Thousands thronged the streets, the parks 
and the cafes, affording the visitor an exceptional 
opportunity for observation. Although it has 
been asserted that a higher percentage of illiter¬ 
acy prevails in Southern Spain than in any other 
country of Europe, the stranger within the gates 
would never suspect it, as the masses appeared as 
intelligent and, for a certainty, as well mannered 


Spain. 


29 


and elegantly dressed as similar classes in any 
city of the English-speaking world. The aver¬ 
age Spaniard seems to possess those- character¬ 
istics of an innate sense of refinement and good 
breeding, which are not necessarily the conse¬ 
quences of mere book-learning. My first im¬ 
pressions of Spain and her people are most de¬ 
lightful, and have already rid me of many of the 
prejudices imbibed by many years of reading un¬ 
fair, ignorant and calumnious charges, made by 
their enemies against a race nobler by far in 
many respects than their detractors. The moral 
atmosphere seemed joyous and contented; a 
hurdy-gurdy would strike up below in the street 
with the bang of a tambourine, and from all the 
windows in the neighborhood a shower of pen¬ 
nies would descend to reward the efforts of the 
strolling performers; strangers would be accom¬ 
panied by a passer-by through a maze of streets 
safely to their hotels, and the renumeration of¬ 
fered would be politely declined; no thought of 
monetary recompense entered into the many acts 
of kindness, of which we were the beneficiaries 
during our stay in this delightful city. Byron, 
to whom this “renowned, romantic land” as he 
called it, wrote to his mother in 1809, “Cadiz, 

sweet Cadiz! it is the first spot in creation. The 
beauty of its streets and mansions is only ex¬ 
celled by the loveliness of its inhabitants, the 
finest women in Spain.” 


30 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Though a comparatively small city, few larger 
centres of population can boast of finer public in¬ 
stitutions than Cadiz. The new hospital, with its 

magnificent out look on the Atlantic Ocean, is 
equipped with the best facilities that modern hy¬ 
gienic science can supply, and for the nominal fee 
of half a franc daily, the patients receive a medi¬ 
cal care and treatment that even the rich in an 
American city might envy. Its asylum for the 
poor enjoys a reputation that extends far 
beyond the confines of the country. A home 
for widows, and an admirably conducted in¬ 
sane asylum are a few of its many charities. 
As the population is almost wholly Catholic, 
all of these institutions are served by those 
ministering angels in human guise, the patient, 
self-sacrificing Sisters of Mercy. The city main¬ 
tains also a school of music and art, an institute or 
school of science, and two public libraries. Ad¬ 
joining our hotel was a church in charge of the 
Franciscan Fathers; we took advantage of the 
opportunity to pay our respects, and at the same 
time to inspect the edifice, which was the first of 
its kind we had seen in Spain. Like most of the 
Spanish parish churches, the exterior appeared 
quite unattractive, but the interior gave us our 
first ideas of the beauty and richness of these 
houses of worship, which filled us with astonish¬ 
ment and admiration. The “retablo” or screen 
behind the high altar was a massive piece of 
wonderful carving in wood, heavily gilded with 


Spain. 


3 1 


gold sent from California by the pioneer Fran¬ 
ciscans of that State three centuries ago. Around 
the aisles of the church were at least a score of 
side chapels containing altars exquisiely carved 
in wood, with retablos richly gilded, and of the 
same fine workmanship. Wood-carving is a 
species of art for which Spain has developed a 
national talent, and in which she has outstripped 
all other competitors for pre-eminence. In our 
progress through the country, this conviction be- 
became intensified as we beheld the marvelous 
choir-stalls in the great cathedrals, the works of 
such masters of this art as Berruguete, Vigarni, 
Montanes, and others. “The wood carvers of 
Spain, more perhaps than her illustrious pain¬ 
ters, embody the deep religious spirit of the na¬ 
tion. They worked with a realism almost pain¬ 
ful, but which genuinely depicted the inner and 
vivid spiritual intelligence of their nature. If 
their achievements in their chosen art have re¬ 
ceived but scant recognition in modern aesthe- 
tical criticism, the cause may be found in the de¬ 
plorably prevalent custom of painting the statues, 
or dressing them with quaint but tawdry gar¬ 
ments. This notable defect, however, does not 
appear in the wonderful choir-stalls, which are 
left in their native woods, and acquire a polish 
which time only can give.”* 

On the evening of the feast of Corpus Christi, 
a general illumination of the city took place in 


* Heroic Spain. 



32 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


honor of the event. In the morning a solemn 
procession of the Blessed Sacrament wended its 
way from a church at one end of the city to the 
cathedral at the other. The route traversed lay 
through the principal business and residential 
streets which were lavishly but tastefully decor¬ 
ated, and, at night, brilliantly illuminated for 
the entire distance. Electrical designs in a va¬ 
riety of colors lent a fascination to the scene 
which surpasses the powers of description. Tri¬ 
umphal arches, blazing with myriads of lights, 
which revealed in the darkness their graceful 
outlines, were erected at the leading intersecting 
points along the line of march. To the stranger 
from the New World, the whole seemed an ex¬ 
cursion into fairy-land. The highways swarmed 
with the city’s population far into the night, but 
careful observation failed to disclose the slight¬ 
est signs of rowdyism or disorder. Could as 
much be said of many of our American cities 
on similar occasions? A New Englander who 
found himself in Cadiz more than fifty years 
ago writes to the same effect: “A girl, however 
fair and beautiful, can walk the streets of Cadiz 
alone and unprotected any hour of the night, 
without fear of insult. With how much truth 
could this be said of an English or an American 
city? A Spaniard is too proud to assail one 
weaker than himself. Their sex is their sure 
protection, and at night as well as by day they 
walk unmolested and unaccosted.” 



THE CATHEDRAL—CADIZ, SPAIN, 





















Spain. 


33 


The chief object of attraction in Cadiz, as in 
many of the other cities of Spain is the Cathe¬ 
dral. It is a comparatively modern structure, 
built in the 18th century, in Romanesque style, 
and occupies a considerable area; it is, in fact, 
larger in its proportions than any church in 
the United States. It is a superb edifice, 
and its interior, crowned by a massive dome, 
is exceedingly grand and imposing. One of the 
clergy connected with the church informed us, 
however, that it by no means takes rank amongst 
the greatest of Spanish cathedrals, although it 
impressed me as no other church I have ever 
seen. It is, then, but a foretaste of what awaits 
us in our visits to the other marvelous cathedrals 
scattered up and down this truly wonderful land. 
The next point of interest was the old Capuchin 
monastery, where Murillo painted his last pic¬ 
ture, and where he fell from the scaffold, dying 
soon after at Seville, where he was taken after 
the accident. In this church may be seen several 
of his works, notably one over the altar, St. 
Francis receiving the Scapular from the Blessed 
Virgin, which, in the opinion of competent 
critics, is considered one of the greatest master¬ 
pieces that came from his brush. The Museum 
likewise contains an admirable “Ecce Homo” by 
the same master, as well as a large collection of 
paintings of the ancient and modern schools. A 
look at the bull-ring, a drive to the beautiful 
park with its “paseo de palmer as’ forming an 


34 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


allee, flanked on either side with a double row of 
luxuriant palms, and a stroll through the finest 
residential section of the city completed our in¬ 
spection of Cadiz. With much reluctance and 
the pleasantest memories we bade adieu to one of 
the fairest of fair Andalusia’s beautiful cities 
Unlike its sisters, Cordova Seville, and Granada, 
the long dominion of the Moor has left its un¬ 
touched, and its charm and beauty are purely 
Catholic. Though it has experienced many vi¬ 
cissitudes in the three thousand years of its his¬ 
tory, fortune has again smiled on Cadiz, and if 
the rich laden galleons of old no longer spread 
their snowy sails within the safe refuge of its 
splendid harbor, the large number of ocean 
liners from the four quarters of the globe pro¬ 
claim again her increasing importance in that 
vast commercial world of which she was once 
the acknowledged mistress. 

A short distance from the city, along the rail¬ 
way, amongst the low and almost interminable 
marshes that skirt the Atlantic coast, are situated 
the famous, and, at the same time, enormous salt¬ 
pans, one of the greatest sources of the prosperity 
of Cadiz. Numberless beds or lakes are enclosed 
where the waters of the sea are collected, and the 
salt, held in solution, gathered by evaporation. 
Huge pyramids of this prime necessity of life 
rear their snow-white cones above the dreary 
landscape, and constitute a novel sight to the 
traveler by rail. 


Spain. 


35 


On our way to Seville, the most important 
town at which our train lingered longest is Jerez, 
or Xeres, the home of the wine to which it gives 
its name—Sherry. Its situation is picturesque, 
emerging from vine-clad slopes, studded with 
pleasant farm houses and country seats; its white¬ 
washed towers, and walled fortresses, its quaint 
architecture and vast “bo dejas” impress the 
fancy. These latter are wine vaults, some three 
hundred feet long, containing thousands of bar¬ 
rels, and seem to be distributed in every direction. 
As is well known, the greater parts of the wines 
exported to all parts of the world and sold as 
sherry are grown in Malaga, and other parts of 
Southern Spain, brought to Cadiz, and thence 
reshipped. Whilst the vineyards here are very 
extensive, their product is comparatively limited, 
and can by no means supply the world-wide de¬ 
mand. The highest price is paid in foreign 
countries for Sherries, which have nothing of 
the wine of Xeres but its stolen name. The rail 
journey of about one hundred miles from Cadiz 
to Seville carries the tourist through one of the 
most fertile sections of all Spain. For centuries 
Andalusia has been famed for the tropical rich¬ 
ness of its soil, and if its immense resources were 
properly developed, the country might become 
the great fruit storehouse of Europe. Miles up¬ 
on miles of olive groves, vineyards and orchards 
could be glimpsed from the car windows as we 
sped along, whilst the productive cornfields of 


36 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

this smiling land have made it one of the great 
granaries of the world. The magnificent orange 
groves of Seville have been famous for centuries 
and the tourists look in vain, at least in this sec¬ 
tion, for those signs of backwardness and decay 
which fill so large a space in the pages of so- 
called “guide-books” of Spain. 


SEVILLE. 

“Quien no ha visto a Sevilla, 

No ha visto a maravilla.” 

“Who never has to Seville been, 

No marvel yet has ever seen.” 

This far-famed city on the banks of the Gua¬ 
dalquivir, boasts of a lineage more ancient than 
almost any other place on the continent of 
Europe. When the site of the Eternal City was 
still infested by prowling wolves, Seville enjoyed 
a corporate existence, which continues to the 
present day. Founded more than a thousand 
years before the Christian era by those daring 
rovers of the sea, the Phoenicians, it had grown 
in power and wealth until its capture by Julius 
Caesar, 45 B. C., who made it a Roman colony, 
and especially favored it in opposition to its 
rival Cordova, which espoused the cause of 
Pompey. It was called Sephela by the Phoeni- 



Spain. 


37 


V 


cians, Hispalis by the Romans, and Ishbilieh b\ 
the Moors. When the Goths overran Spain, 
after the downfall of the empire of the Caesars, 
they made Seville their seat of power, but in the 
sixth century, the court was removed to Toledo. 
It was in the hands of the Moors from 711 till 
1248, and under their dominion attained an un¬ 
paralleled degree of splendor and prosperity. 
In 1248, after a long seige of fifteen months un¬ 
der St. Ferdinand, King of Castile and Leon, it 
was recovered by its lawful owners, and made the 
capital of the united kingdoms, and so remained 
until the reign of Charles the Fifth. After the 
discovery of America, it enjoyed a large share 
of the trade with the New World, until its means 
of communication with the sea—the Guadal¬ 
quivir—became choked with silt, and its com¬ 
mercial supremacy transferred to Cadiz. Along 
the river front the principal object that attracts 
the attention is the Torre del Oro, or Tower of 
Gold, erected by the Romans and occupied as a 
fortress by the Moors. It is so called because it 
is supposed to have been in the time of Columbus 
and his fellow-explorers, the storehouse for the 
gold sent by them from the New World. 

The crowning glory of Seville, and the magnet 
which yearly draws thousands from every quar¬ 
ter of the earth to the fair Andalusian city, is her 
superb Cathedral, “la grandeza,” as her people 
love to call it, one of the most magnificent struc¬ 
tures ever reared by the hand of man. Its pro- 



38 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

portions are colossal, 431 by 3 15 feet, enclosing 
about five acres. Sevillians claim that its grand 
area surpasses even that of St. Peter’s in Rome, 
to which it admittedly ranks second; 45,000 per¬ 
sons can assemble within its walls. Its builders, 
the men of vast ideas, so plentiful in the so-called 
“Dark Ages,” solemnly vowed to erect to the 
glory of God a temple “so large and beautiful 
that coming ages may proclaim us mad for hav¬ 
ing undertaken it.” In fulfillment of their vow, 
the canons of the Cathedral sacrificed their en¬ 
tire personal revenues, and for more than a hun¬ 
dred years the members of the Chapter took 
their meals at a common table. It was completed 
in 1519. As one enters the mighty edifice at the 
east portal, and endeavors to survey at a glance 
its vast proportions, a feeling of awe and amaze¬ 
ment takes possession of him, which becomes in¬ 
tensified when his eyes sweep along the center 
nave, one hundred and forty-five feet high, for 
its entire length, nearly five hundred feet! The 
towering arch that spans the nave at the transept- 
dome, one hundred and seventy-five feet in 
height at its apex, is perhaps the most glorious 
thing that human eyes have ever beheld. 
Amongst the great Gothic Cathedrals of the 
world, Seville possesses certain features that con¬ 
stitute it a church apart. It alone can boast of 
seven naves, whilst Milan, its nearest rival, has 
but five, as also St. Peter’s in Rome. The pave¬ 
ment of black and white checkered marble is 








Spain. 


39 


magnificent. In the number of its side chapels, 
between forty and fifty, the cathedral possesses 
a wealth of art treasures and paintings, frescoes, 
exquisitely sculptured altars and mortuary mon¬ 
uments, delicately carved retablos in wood and 
wonderfully wrought iron “rejas”or gates, that to 
the stranger from theNew World are simply over¬ 
powering. As I contemplated in awe and admi¬ 
ration the grandeur of this marvelous temple of 
Catholic Faith, erected by a people who deeply 
believed in the indwelling of Jesus Christ in the 
Holy Sacrament of the Altar, my thoughts re¬ 
verted to the gigantic genius of the men of the 
dead past who made such a structure possible, 
and instinctively suggested a mental comparison 
between them and their ignorant and intolerant 
critics of to-day. Spain has suffered more, per¬ 
haps, than any other civilized nation from the ve¬ 
nomous attacks of self-constituted Solomons, 
whose sapiential judgments passed upon her laws, 
her institutions and her historicalpastareequaled 
or surpassed only by the sublimity of their self- 
conceit and the depth of their ignorance. With 
wearisome and parrot-like iteration and re-iter¬ 
ation the charges are made by unreliable guide 
books and prejudiced itinerant lecturers that, 
with the expulsion of the Moors from a land 
which they held by the sword, the light of cul¬ 
ture, science and learning was forever extin¬ 
guished. As long as Seville, Toledo, Burgos, 
Leon, Oviedo, Segovia and Granada stand un- 

4 


40 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


surpassed by any similar structures in the world, 
so long can Spain endure with equanimity, and 
treat with silent contempt the blind hostility of 
her enemies. As we entered the Cathedral, 
solemn High Mass was being sung, as is custo¬ 
mary in Spain every day during the octave of 
Corpus Christi, the enormous organs were giving 
forth their volumes of inspiring music, and the 
deep swelling tones of the largest, with its five 
thousand three hundred pipes and uncounted 
stops—one of the world’s master instruments— 
made themselves heard above all other sounds, 
and filled the vast edifice with their vibrating 
melody. The sermon was about to be preached 
as we approached the high altar, and silently 
taking a seat near the pulpit, we listened to the 
orator. The discourse was a learned, polished 
effort on the Blessed Sacrament, partly doctrinal, 
partlymoral and profusely illustrated from Holy 
Scripture. AfterMasswe remained to get a more 
intimate view of the great sanctuary, with its im¬ 
posing high altar. “Below the steps of the latter 
stood twelve massive candlesticks, higher than a 
man, and made of pure silver, whilst close by 
were displayed the priceless flagons and trays 
used on the more solemn festivals. The altar it¬ 
self, of solid silver, with a tabernacle of the same 
precious metal, exquisitely chased in gold, is a 
notable work of art. Every accessory of Se¬ 
ville’s Cathedral is on the same vast scale. The 
retablo, or altar screen, with its wonderful carv- 




Spain. 


4 1 


ing of Biblical scenes, the gilded “rejas,” or iron 
gates, wrought by the Monk of Salamanca in 
the same disregard for man’s limitations in which 
the whole cathedral was built; and whose dark 
fretwork enhances the brilliant scenes they en¬ 
close, all tell of an age of ardent faith, when men 
gave of their best to the adornment of the House 
of God.”* 

A side chapel in the south transept of the 
great church possesses a special interest for the 
stranger from across the Atlantic. Within its 
deep recesses repose the remains of Christopher 
Columbus, which were removed from Havana 
in 1898, when Spanish Occupation of Cuba 
ceased. Four bronze figures of heroic size bear 
on their shoulders the supports of a massive bier, 
which contains the ashes of the immortal dis¬ 
coverer. This imposing mortuary monument 
easily surpasses, in magnificence, the other num¬ 
erous sculptured memorials which adorn the 
Cathedral. 

Desiring to see the famous “treasury” of the 
church, we called upon the Archbishop at his 
palace, a large fifteenth century building with 
spacious courtyard in the centre, to secure per¬ 
mission. He received us most graciously and 
kindly granted our request. He impressed us as 
an accomplished type of the higher Spanish ec¬ 
clesiastic, speaking French and Castilian with 
equal fluency. During the course of a pleasant 
interview, he appeared deeply interested in the 


* Heroic Spain. 



42 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


condition of the church in the United States, and 
was gratified to learn of the remarkable progress 
she is making under Democratic institutions and 
liberal laws. Returning to the Cathedral, an 
attendant conducted us to the sacristy where the 
costly sacred vessels and vestments are kept. It 
is an imposing building, in Renaissance style, 
larger in proportions than the average church, 
and crowned with a dome. Among the most 
valued treasures shown was a cross, a foot high, 
made of the virgin gold which Columbus 
brought to Spain on his return from his first 
voyage to the New World, an enormous osten- 
soriurn of pure silver, exquisitely chased in gold, 
and encrusted with numberless diamonds and 
other precious stones, “a custodia,” or tabernacle, 
used in public procession of the Blessed Sacra¬ 
ment—almost a ton in weight, one of the finest 
examples of the gold and silver worker's art; 
chalices, ciboriums, vestments of gold and silver 
texture, priceless in value, a collection of religi¬ 
ous art objects, in a word, whose beauty, richness 
and variety are perhaps unsurpassed by any 
church in the world. The greater part of these 
treasures date back centuries ago, when Spanish 
Faith and generosity donated to the House of 
God a portion of the vast wealth that flowed into 
them from the Indies and America. It has been 
estimated by competent historians that from 
1500 to 1702 more than ten billion dollars were 
sent to Spain from her numerous colonies. 


Spain. 


43 


These vast riches were more or less a source of 
corruption to the people; honest industry was 
neglected, when money was so plentiful, the 
great bulk of the gold found its way into foreign 
countries in exchange for supplies, and when 
the stream of wealth was dried up by the loss of 
her colonies, Spain saw herself stripped of near¬ 
ly all of her riches, save those that she had con¬ 
secrated to the service of religion. 

Second only in interest to the Cathedral itself, 
and forming a part of it, is the renowned Gir- 
alda, or bell tower, a tall shaft three hundred and 
fifty feet high of Moorish architecture. It was' 
formerly attached to a great mosque which stood 
on the site of the present church, and from its 
lofty summit the muezzin called the people to 
prayer, as is customary in all Mohammedan 
cities of the East today. It is a square-shaped 
brick tower of fine proportions, and under the 
Moors, when its walls were decorated with ele¬ 
gant designs on a background of rose color, frag¬ 
ments of which still remain, the Giralda must 
have been a marvel of beauty and grace. Time 
and the elements, however, have left their im¬ 
press upon it, and its present appearance is de¬ 
cidedly disappointing. 

The ascent of the tower is easily accomplished 
notwithstanding its height. The spiral steps are 
so gradual, so wide and capacious that one might 
ride up on horseback, a feat indeed performed 
by King Ferdinand the Seventh. The view from 


44 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

the summit is one of the memorable experiences 
of a visit to Seville. Seen from such an emi¬ 
nence, the city, with its streets so narrow that the 
houses almost touch, seems one confused jumble, 
save that the larger edifices—the Alcazar, the 
Palace of the Montpensier, the cigar manufac¬ 
tory—stand out in bold relief and detain the eye. 
On the right, between the Giralda and the river 
—the Guadalquivir—stand the moldering re¬ 
mains of a once formidable Moorish castle. Be¬ 
yond the river lies Triana, the home of the 
gypsies, and beyond Triana, what was once 
Italica, founded by Scipio Africanus, and the 
birthplace of three Roman Emperors, the en¬ 
lightened Trajan, Adrian, and Theodosius the 
Great. Sumptuously decorated by Adrian, 
gratefully protected by Theodosius, populous 
under the Goths and flourishing under the 
Moors, it is now, alas! the habitation of the 
crawling lizard, and the haunt of the thievish 
gypsy. 

After leaving the Cathedral, our guide con¬ 
ducted us to the Alcazar, one of the wonders of 
Seville, and the former home of the Moorish 
kings who ruled this conquered Christian terri¬ 
tory for five hundred years. It stands as one of 
the finest specimens of Arabian architecture left 
in Spain. It is built upon the spot where once 
stood the mansion of the Roman praetor, Alcazar, 
or Al-Kasr, signifying in Arabic, the house of 
Caesar. It was re-erected by Prince Abderrah- 





THE CATHEDRAL—SEVILLE, SPAIN 

































Spain. 


45 


man some time in the tenth century, after a great 
pestilence in Spain, when the mortality was so 
great that the living became weary of burying 
the dead. The Roman, the Goth, and the Arab 
have each impressed his occupancy upon its 
architecture. The columns of the vestibule are 
Roman, surmounted by Gothic capitals, whilst 
many of the doors and ceilings are genuinely 
Moorish. The gorgeous decorations and mar¬ 
velous beauty of the many rooms of this wonder¬ 
ful palace, it would be almost folly to at¬ 
tempt to describe. Marble pillars as delicate as 
the stem of a lily, support gilded and finely 

sculptured arches that are simply a dream of ele¬ 
gance and grace. The wainscoting that is car¬ 
ried through all the rooms is a rich tiling of 
brilliant warmth of coloring, and forms a match¬ 
less foundation for the upper walls of pure white 
marble, which are carved with such a delicacy 
of art and design as to resemble nothing less than 
a marvelous network of the finest lace. The hall 
of the Ambassadors u la sala de los embajadores” 
is more magnificent than that of the same name 
within the Alhambra at Granada. Don Pedro 
the Cruel, the Spanish king, employed Moorish 
workmen to build it, who vied with their con¬ 
temporary rivals of the Alhambra in its decor¬ 
ation. From the time of the expulsion of the 
Moors, the monarchs of Spain added to the origi¬ 
nal Moorish interior decorations of their build¬ 
ing, until, though on a small scale, it now rivals 


46 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the Alhambra itself. Unlike the Alhambra, a 
large portion of the Moorish carvings in the Al¬ 
cazar, and those made in perfect imitation of 
them by the kings of Castile, are in solid marble, 
whilst most, if not all of the decorations of the 
Alhambra, are in stucco, which required carv¬ 
ings in wood for their foundation. After a visit 
to the Alcazar, the effect of the interior ornamen¬ 
tation of the Alhambra is disappointing. 

Adjoining the Alcazar is a magnificent tropi¬ 
cal garden, laid out by Charles V., with varied 
levels and palm-embowered plots, a veritable 
Arabian Nip-hits’ paradise, a poem in fountains, 
flowers and orange trees. Secret springs hidden 
beneath the marble pavements send forth jets of 
water which suddenly spurted in unexpected 
places, whilst marble lined artificial lakes lent 
to the whole a scene of splendor truly Oriental. 

Whilst contemplating the beauty of the whole, 
the thought suggested itself that if the superb 
Cathedral is a sublime act of Faith by Catholic 
Spain, the Alcazar is the perfection of all that 
ministers to sensuality—a cardinal point in the 
Mohammedan creed. The day was excessively 
warm, the summer sun mercilessly sending down 
its scorching rays on the city, nevertheless the in¬ 
terior of the Alcazar was quite cool and pleasant. 
As a picture of Oriental magnificence, the Moor¬ 
ish palace of Seville leaves on the memory of the 
tourist an impression that will outlive many 
others that may be gathered in his travels. 


Spain. 


47 


The city itself is a disappointment. The 
beauty and cleanliness of Cadiz are conspicuous 
by their absence. The streets are extremely nar¬ 
row, and twist and bend in truly Oriental fash¬ 
ion. Many of the houses, however, evidence 
architectural elegance, and the “patios” of Se¬ 
ville, with their central fountains, walls of bril¬ 
liant tiling, and imposing white marble columns 
and pavements are a perpetual delight, and seem 
to justify the old German proverb, that “he 
whom God loves has a house in Seville.” In the 
warm season the family usually abandons the 
upper quarters of the house to live around the 
patio, over which an awning is stretched, and 
where in the cool evenings, animated “tertulias,” 
or social gatherings are held. Though the city 
is sadly lacking in many requirements of themod- 
ern progressive municipality, with two such at¬ 
tractions as the Cathedral and the Alcazar, Se¬ 
ville needs nothing else to make it for all time the 
Mecca for travelers. 

Late in the afternoon we returned to the Ca¬ 
thedral to witness “el baile de las seises,” or the 
famous “dance” of ten little boys before the high 
altar in presence of the Blessed Sacrament en¬ 
throned, a strange religious ceremony performed 
every day during the Octave of Corpus Christ, 
andseen nowhere else in the world. Twoexplana- 
tions are given of the origin of this peculiar rite. 
The first is that in the thirteenth century, the 
Cathedral chapter of Seville undertook to con- 


48 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

struct a wooden ark, representing the Ark of the 
Covenant, in which the Blessed Sacrament was 
placed. Before the Ark, six boys of tender years, 
dressed as angels, with garlands of flowers on 
their heads, sang and danced as David and the 
Israelites did before the Ark of the Covenant. 
The other explanation given is that this unique 
custom commemorated the Christians’ entry into 
the Moslem’s conquered town more than six hun¬ 
dred years ago, when the children are said to 
have danced with joy. The word “dance” is a 
misnomer, however, in this instance, as there is 
no shuffling of feet. It is more a quiet rhythmic 
stepping to music than a dance; a series of grace¬ 
ful movements, in which figures and letters are 
formed having a mystic meaning, the double “S,” 
for example, standing for Santissimo Sacramento 
—the Most Blessed Sacrament. During the 
various motions the boys who are carefully se¬ 
lected for their voices, sang with such exquisite 
harmony as to hold the spectators spell-bound. 
At intervals, the accompaniment stopped, and 
for a second the lads moved slowly to the sound 
of their own castanets. This peculiar custom of 
Seville has aroused severe criticism from many 
quarters, and centuries ago one of the Popes or¬ 
dered its discontinuance, allowing the dance to 
go on only as long as the costumes then in use 
lasted, but the people who clung obstinately to 
their old traditions evaded the decree by succes¬ 
sive patching of the suits. Whatever truth there 



Spain. 


49 


may be in the story, the costumes of the boys are 
not suggestive of rags and tatters, but on the con¬ 
trary are picturesquely elegant, consisting of 
blouses of blue and white alternate strips with 
white knee breeches and slippers. Although I 
entered the church with strong prejudice against 
the so-called dance, I left it deeply impressed 
and edified, with the consciousness that another 
of my Puritanical prepossessions had melted into 
thin air. 

Not only in peerless architecture, Christian 
and Moslem, but also in painting, Seville claims 
the homage of the tourist. In her famous 
“Museo,” or picture gallery, may be seen a col 
lection of magnificent masterpieces, chiefly Span¬ 
ish, that is scarcely inferior to the renowned 
“Prado” in Madrid. Its imposing array of 
Murillos is unsurpassed by any other gallery in 
the world. One entire room is devoted to the 
genius of Spain’s greatest master of the brush. 
One could profitably spend hours and days iti 
this shrine of art, studying the genius of the un 
rivalled painter who has shed undying lustre on 
his beloved Espana. Many others of the illus¬ 
trious painters of Spain, Velasquez, Zurburran, 
El Greco are represented on the walls of this in¬ 
stitution by some of their masterpieces, and for 
the connoisseur in the pictorial art the Museo 
must be a perpetual delight. 

Of special interest to the American tourist is 
the Columbus Library of Seville, founded chief- 


50 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


ly by a legacy of Ferdinando Columbus, son of 
the discoverer, who bequeathed it his private 
library, originally containing 18,000 volumes, 
but now reduced to almost half that number. 
Amongst the rare treasures are manuscripts of 
the donor and of his father, a copy “Tractulus de 
Imagine Mundi,” by Cardinal D’Ailly, publish¬ 
ed in 1480, and a treatise in geography, copied by 
Columbus’ own hand. The library is attached 
to the “sagrario,” or parish church, which ad¬ 
joins the Cathedral. 

The great centre of outdoor social life of Se¬ 
ville is the famous “paseo de las delicias,” a 
beautiful shaded driveway and promenade that 
follows the left bank of the Quadalquivir, and 
extends beyond the city limits. Every evening it 
is thronged with all classes of Sevillians, and the 
observer cannot fail to be impressed with the 
genuinely democratic spirit that prevails among¬ 
st them. “Spain seems to be the one country in 
the world today where poverty is not considered 
a crime or a disgrace, and in public gatherings, 
in the churches, in the museums, in the parks, the 
poor and the rich mingle indiscriminately with 
no thought of servility on the part of the one 
nor haughtiness on the part of the other.”* 


* Heroic Spain. 



Spain. 


5i 


CORDOVA. 

A railroad journey of three hours brought us 
to Cordova, the famous city of the Caliphs. Like 
Seville, it is situated on the Quadalquivir, which 
seems to have deflected from its course to em¬ 
brace it, thus affording one of the many illustra¬ 
tions of that “wise providence of Nature which 
has caused rivers generally to flow past cities.” 
No place in Spain can boast so varied and illus¬ 
trious annals. Under the Carthaginians, it was 
famous and prosperous; it furnished Pompey 
some of his best soldiers and ample funds; it was 
beseiged, taken and half destroyed by Julius 
Caesar, who put to death twenty thousand of its 
citizens to deter other cities from so obstinate a 
defense. It was rebuilt and repeopled by some 
of the poor nobility of Rome, who sought to re¬ 
gain in the provinces the wealth they had squan¬ 
dered in the capital of the Empire. Under the 
early Caesars it cultivated and enriched the polite 
and useful arts. The philosopher Seneca, and 
the poet Lucan were born here, and in their pages 
have commemorated its glories. Under the 
Gothic dominion it still maintained a supremacy 
amongst the Iberian cities, but it was especially 
under the Moors that it became most eminent for 
wealth, luxury and science. 


52 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


In 756, Abderrahman made it the capital of the 
Omeyeh dynasty, and for three centuries his suc¬ 
cessors extended and embellished it until it be¬ 
came the greatest and richest city in the world. 
The first of the Caliphs, Abderahman was a di¬ 
rect descendant of Mohammed, and his cousin 
ruled the powerful kingdom of Damascus. 
Early in the eighth century, while but a youth of 
twenty years, his family were driven from the 
throne by the usurping Abassidae, and every 
member of it, with the exception of himself, was 
by their order put to death. Warned by trusty 
friends, he escaped after incredible hardships to 
the deserts of Arabia, but pursued by his power¬ 
ful enemies he fled to Northern Africa. Whilst 
here he was waited on by a deputation of the 
Moslems of Spain, who offered him not only a 
secure asylum, but also the empire and sovereign¬ 
ty of Spain. He landed in the country with less 
than one thousand men. With these he marched 
immediately on Seville, which opened its gates 
and poured forth its population to receive him. 
He then proceeded to Cordova, and after two 
sanguinary victories over the rebels who sought 
to relieve it, captured it. In a short time he made 
himself master over all Moorish Spain, and laid 
the neighboring Christian princes under heavy 
tribute as the price of peace. He then turned his 
attention to the improvement of his capital. He 
caused the highways and the aqueducts of the 
Romans to be restored, and public gardens and 


Spain. 


53 


walks to be laid out and decorated. He himself 
planted the first palm tree ever seen in Spain, 
and from the summit of the tower he had erected 
in his garden on the Quadalquivir, he was wont 
to watch its growth. 

Abderrahman was considered the most accom¬ 
plished prince of his age; a distinguished soldier, 
a wise statesman, an unequaled musician and 
poet; he was the founder of a dynasty, the most 
illustrious in the annals of Islam. Under him 
and his descendants, Arabian Spain became 
powerful and enlightened. He determined to 
inaugurate his reign and dynasty by the erection 
of an unrivalled mosque. He attracted to his 
court, by promise of a large reward, all the most 
cunning artificers of Syria, as well as of Spain, 
and the result of their handiwork has been the 
admiration of every succeeding age. It has been 
said that the plan was drawn by the king himself, 
who intended the mosque should resemble that 
of Damascus, and be of greater extent than that 
of Bagdad, which also it was to surpass in splen¬ 
dor and magnificence. He was ever desirous 
that it should equal the Holy House of Jeru¬ 
salem—the object next to the Caaba at Mecca of 
the Moslem’s utmost veneration. He carried 
forward the work with the greatest diligence, 
working himself daily for an hour amongst the 
artisans. The mosque was three hundred and 
sixty feet long, and three hundred and ninety-five 
wide. The columns supporting the roof num- 


54 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


bered ten hundred and ninety-three, and were 
of the finest marble. The southern entrance was 
approached by nineteen portals covered with 
metal plates of wonderful workmanship, the 
principal gate being plated with massive gold. 
Three gilded balls surmounted the highest cu¬ 
pola, and above these was placed a pomegranate 
of solid gold. Two thousand seven hundred 
lamps were lighted for the time of evening 
prayer, the lamp of the Mihrab, or oratory, being 
of gold, very large, and of marvelous design. 

After the downfall of the Cordovan caliphs, 
the famous mezquita or mosque became the prop¬ 
erty of the conquerors, who converted it into a 
Catholic Cathedral. As its peculiar construction 
totally unfitted it for the purposes of Christian 
worship, the canons felt themselves compelled to 
remove a considerable number of the aisles and 
pillars to provide a choir and high altar. Whole¬ 
sale and unmerited abuse has been heaped upon 
them ever since, from Charles V. down, who re¬ 
proached them by exclaiming: “You have built 
here what anyone might have built elsewhere, 
but you have destroyed what was unique in the 
world.” One would imagine from the bitter at¬ 
tacks made upon them that these men were little 
less than barbarians, devoid of all sense of the 
artistic and beautiful. The writer, however, 
disagrees with this judgment, and in justification 
calls attention to the choir stalls of this former 
mosque, which, for perfect execution of design 


Spain. 


55 


and artistic beauty, are unsurpassed by any wood 
carving in the world, with the single exception of 
Toledo. As I entered the Cathedral, my first im¬ 
pressions were as confused as a man who had lost 
his way in a thick forest. It is indeed “unique” 
in the world, for nowhere else can be seen a low 
building whose vast roof is supported by nine 
hundred short pillars, each a monolith, of every 
conceivable variety of marble, and distributed 
into symmetrical aisles, twenty nine of which in 
one direction are crossed by nineteen in another. 
The effect at first is bewildering, but soon be¬ 
comes more or less monotonous as one grows accus¬ 
tomed to his surroundings. “Moorish architecture 
and Catholic Gothic architecture are as far apart 
as the poles. Between the orderly sameness of the 
mosque of Cordova, and the luxuriant variety of 
the interior of the Seville Cathedral, there is 
a difference as wide and deep as there is between 
Christ and Mohammed. The towering vaulted 
naves of the Gothic minster, and the low depress¬ 
ing elevation of the Mezquita, appear to typify 
the ideals for which the two creeds stand—the 
one reaching after the Infinite, the other content 
to follow the limitations set by nature.”* 

The peerless gem which this marvelous build¬ 
ing contains, and to enclose which it seems to have 
been constructed, is the “Mihrab,” or prayer 
chapel, the “Holy of Holies” of the Mohamme¬ 
dan cult. It is an octagonal oratory of limited 

* Heroic Spain. 


5 


J 




56 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

dimensions, hidden away, as it were, in that vast 
building, and yet, like the structure that sur¬ 
rounds it, its equal is not to be found anywhere in 
the world. The roof of the Mihrab is one piece 
of pure white marble, and carved in imitation of 
a huge shell. The mosaics which give to it its 
imperishable glory are richer and softer in hue 
than an Eastern rug, and are the product of 
Christian workmen, sent by Leo, the Emperor of 
Constantinople to teach the Caliphs this wonder¬ 
ful art. The decorations on the walls, which 
seem a network of delicate lace, are carved in 
marble, and not in the customary plaster—also 
a Christian innovation. 

In the Mihrab, or sanctuary, formerly stood a 
pulpit of A1 Hakem II., composed of ivory, pre¬ 
cious wood and stone, inlaid and held by silver 
and golden nails. Within was kept the famous 
copy of the Koran, by Othman, stained with his 
blood, in a smaller box, covered with gold leaf, 
encrusted with pearls and rubies, resting in a lec- 
ternof aloe, fastened with golden nails. As I stood 
almost spell-bound before this exquisite gem of 
human genius, I found it difficult to realize that I 
was beholding the fruit of the consummate skill 
of human hands and brains that have lain in the 
dust for a thousand years! Like a sparkling dia¬ 
mond, its brilliancy was undimmed as if it were 
a thing of yesterday, and modern art, with all its 
achievements, has not surpassed the acme of per¬ 
fection reached by men who lived more than ten 




INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL—CORDOVA. 







Spain. 


57 


centuries ago! Many clever writers have at¬ 
tempted to describe the beauty and richness of 
the Mihrab, but no tongue or pen can do it jus- 
ti ce —^ must be seen to be appreciated at its pro¬ 
per value. 

On visiting the Cathedral the second day, we 
were met at the main portal by one of the canons 
of the church who volunteered his services as 
our “cicerone,” and was extremely kind in his 
attentions. The Spanish clergy, of whom we met 
many in Cadiz, Seville, Tangiers, and Cordova, 
impressed us as a splendid body of men of un¬ 
doubted learning, courteous manners, and unaf¬ 
fected piety. Unfavorable criticisms of them, as 
a rule, proceed from sources that betray a pain¬ 
ful lack of knowledge of their beliefs and of 
their tongue, essentials, it would seem, of a fair 
judgment. As at Seville, our host showed us the 
treasury of the Cathedral, which contained a 
priceless collection of gold and silver sacred ves¬ 
sels, donated at different periods to the service of 
the altar by the piety and generosity of a people 
so thoroughly Catholic that they considered 
nothing too precious to be offered to the Most 
High. Admiring one particular example of the 
gold and silversmith’s delicate skill, I made bold 
to ask its value in dollars and cents, and was met 
with the courteous but comprehensive reply: 
“Art has no price.” The men who wrought these 
marvels in gold and silver were of a different age 
and spirit from ours. The blight of commercial- 


58 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


ism had never entered their lives. Art for art’s 
sake, or rather art consecrated to the service of 
God was the compelling motive of the long and 
patient labors which produced results, that are 
the admiration and despair of their successors 
of today. 

It was my privilege to celebrate Mass in this 
former Moorish mosque at one of the altars of 
the side chapel, of which there are forty-five in 
all. A widely-known American travel-lecturer, 
with a grudge against the Spaniards for walling 
up the necessary columns of the mezquita inclos¬ 
ing them, calls them cheap and tawdry. To the 
writer, who spent more than three hours care¬ 
fully examining them, they seemed to be neither 
one or the other; on the contrary, the majority 
of them would make magnificent sanctuaries for 
the finest of our Cathedrals in America. Every 
tourist, friendly or otherwise, who has written of 
the Spanish ministers agree, that for wealth and 
luxury of decoration, their side chapels easily 
surpass all others in Europe. They are veritable 
museums of art in miniature, with their altars of 
marble or wood delicately carved, retablos, 
paintings, statuary and frescoes. “The richness 
of Spanish Cathedrals,” observes a recent writer, 
“is at first overpowering, that they are too rich 
and overloaded is a criticism which is quite justi¬ 
fied, but it is the profusion of strength, not the 
cluttering of details to hide a weak understruc¬ 
ture; it is a profusion that speaks the nation’s 


Spain. 


59 


character, her burning Faith, her oriental gener¬ 
osity. The Spaniard has given generously to the 
church in all ages. Though even when prosper¬ 
ous he is content to live with a frugal simplicity 
hardly understood by our luxury-loving time, it 
is a law of his nature that his ideas of grandeur 
and of beauty, should find their free expression 
in the House of God.”* 


GRANADA. 

Our next objective point reached after a nine 
hours’ railroad journey was Granada, the last 
and perhaps the most famous of Andalusia’s his¬ 
toric cities. The tediousness of the long ride was 
relieved with frequent glimpses of mountain vis¬ 
tas, until, climing to the summit of the railway 
route, a superb prospect opened on our sight. 
Here was the glorious “Vega” of Granada, whose 
beauties have been the theme of every tongue, the 
wonder of every eye, dotted over with gay vil¬ 
lages and scattered inhabitants, laughing rivulets 
and sparkling lakes; covered with the verdures of 
the orange, the lemon, the fig, almond and pome¬ 
granate which seemed to start spontaneously 
from the luxuriant carpet beneath, hemmed in by 
gently swelling hills, whose slopes bore the vines 
and hardy olive, all growing in a transparent at- 


* Heroic Spain. 




6o 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


mosphere, which lent new charms to objects so 
lovely in themselves. Peak above peak, pinnacle 
above pinnacle, the Sierra Nevada—the Snowy 
Range—cuts the northern sky, clear and well-de¬ 
fined, yet mysteriously distant. What crowds of 
associations, what throngs of ideas came rushing 
upon the mind, memories of Chateaubriand and 
our own peerless Irving! Here was the battle¬ 
ground of the two Faiths! Here Moslem and 
Christian displayed their equal chivalry, and 
rivaled each other in courtesy no less than in 
arms. Here, too, Moslem contended with Mos¬ 
lem in civil strife, and drenched the soil with 
fraternal blood. Here Ferdinand displayed the 
banners which had recovered all else of Spain, 
and which were soon to float over the Alhambra. 
Here Boabdil the Unlucky took his final farewell 
of a kingdom he had shown so much recklessness 
in acquiring, and so little capacity to defend. 
We were traversing classic ground where every 
hill had its story, every pass its legend, which 
had fertilized the fancy of the poet, the dramatist 
and the historian, and which, whilst associated 
with all that is noble in daring and grand in exe¬ 
cution, and rich in fancy, presents features of 
natural interest no other place can boast. 

Night had fallen when we arrived at Granada, 
and as the hotel we had chosen as our stopping 
place was situated in the heart of the Alhambra 
Gardens, the ride through this magnificent park 
was one long to be remembered. As we entered 


Spain. 


6i 


the Carlo Quinto gate, a scene of illuminated 
beauty met our eyes that involuntarily suggested 
an excursion into fairy-land. Along the broad 
main driveway, bordered on either side by gigan¬ 
tic elms, whose luxuriant foliage suggested the 
recesses of an Alpine forest, were strung power¬ 
ful electric lights, and the shadows cast by the 
great trees gave a weird and delightful aspect to 
the whole. Miniature cascades flowing down 
the wooded slopes and losing themselves in mar¬ 
ble basins, vied in their purling melody with the 
sweet notes of the nightingale, which reechoed 
throughout this terrestrial Eden. Myriads of 
smaller lights were suspended from branches in 
the deeper portions of the park, and the effect 
produced by this unique illumination was en¬ 
chanting beyond description. Upon inquiring 
the cause of this extraordinary spectacle, we were 
told that it was in honor of Corpus Christi, the 
greatest of all festivals amongst the Spaniards. 
The illumination continued every night during 
the Octave of the feast. We considered our¬ 
selves fortunate to find ourselves in this genuinely 
Catholic land at a time of the year when we 
could witness Spanish piety at its fullest flower¬ 
ing. In all the great Cathedrals we have visited 
thus far, Cadiz, Seville, Cordova, and Granada, 
we have assisted at magnificent services in honor 
of the feast, and have been deeply edified by the 
faith and devotion of the people. Spain is pre¬ 
eminently the land of the Blessed Sacrament. 


62 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


The Spaniards for centuries, in the history of the 
Church, have been foremost in their allegiance 
and devotion to the August Mystery of the Altar, 
and there is little reason to doubt that the near ap¬ 
proaching event of the International Eucharistic 
Congress at Madrid will eclipse all previous at¬ 
tempts at manifesting their national faith before 
all the world. 

Words fail to express the delightful sensation 
on awaking on the morning of a perfect June day 
in this enchanted spot to the melodious notes of 
song-birds, and the liquid music of numberless 
cascades rippling through channels framed with 
ivy leaves and verdant moss. The genial rays of 
the summer sun reflected against the tall and 
graceful elms, and lighting up the dark recesses 
of the luxuriant foliage revealed in all their en¬ 
trancing loveliness the beauties of this Elysian 
garden. Tourists and writers of all lands have 
employed their highest powers of description and 
exhausted the resources of language in their ef¬ 
forts to convey an adequate appreciation of the 
incomparable charm of the Gardens of the Al¬ 
hambra. To be estimated at their real value they 
must be seen. 

An early morning walk through this delight¬ 
ful park, with a few turns through the city’s 
streets, brought us to the Cathedral. This great 
edifice, like the others we have seen in Spain, is 
simply marvelous for its vastness, richness and 
grandeur. Built in Graeco-Roman Basilica style, 


Spain. 


63 

it exhibits all the glories of that form of church 
architecture. Besides the Cathedral proper, 
there are a Royal Chapel and a parochial church 
which surpass, in dimensions, if not in magnifi¬ 
cence, some of the largest churches in the United 
States. On either side of the high altar of the 
Royal Chapel kneel sculptured effigies of Spain’s 
greatest royal pair, Ferdinand and Isabella, 
which are pronounced fac-similes of their forms, 
faces and costumes. Painted carvings, illustrat¬ 
ing some of the most memorable incidents of 
their reigns are suspended in the retablo behind 
them. The most conspicuous is the “Surrender 
of the Alhambra.” Isabella rides on a white pal¬ 
frey as she was wont to do in life when she visited 
the royal camp, or on ceremonious occasions; on 
either side of her are Ferdinand and his great 
Chancellor, Cardinal Mendoza. Boabdil, the 
last of the Moorish kings, on foot gives up the 
keys of the city, whilst captives in pairs issue 
from the gates. 

In the middle of the chapel are two alabaster 
sepulchres of delicate workmanship. They are 
said to have been wrought in Genoa at the com¬ 
mand of Charles V., by Peratta, the most skillful 
artist of his time. Ferdinand and Isabella slum¬ 
ber here on couches of purest white marble, and 
next to them their daughter, the insane Joana, 
with her husband Philip, both magnificently at¬ 
tired. He wears the Order of the Golden Fleece, 
as a member of the House of Burgundy. The 


64 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

absolute fidelity with which the numberless folds 
and intricate texture of the garments of these 
royal personages have been reproduced in 
sculptured marble, constitutes their tombs 
amongst the finest works of art to be found in 
Europe. Spain honors herself in thus erecting 
superb memorials to the illustrious king and 
queen who redeemed their native land from the 
groaning oppression of the infidels, after an un¬ 
ceasing, and at times, almost hopeless, struggle 
of 800 years. The world at large, moreover, will 
be their debtor for all time, for it was here at 
Santa Fe, not far from Granada, that Isabella 
finally gave a favorable audience to him who was 
to give to her kingdom a new continent, Christo¬ 
pher Columbus. 

The sacristan conducted us through a low 
door to the crypt directly under the memorial 
monuments themselves where lies moldering all 
that was mortal of these “Catholic Kings.” The 
coffins are plain and hooped with iron, and from 
their external appearance no one would be led 
to suspect that royal rather than plebian dust is 
contained within. Isabella passed away at Vali- 
dolid, but at her own request was buried here. 
Granada which she had contributed so much to 
annex to the Castilian crown was ever after her 
favorite residence. She prized it in life, and ap¬ 
pointed it her sepulchre in death. The clause in 
her last will and testament which registers her 
choice of her final resting place, reveals also the 


Spain. 


65 


noble simplicity and profound humility of her 
soul: “I order that my body be interred in the 
Alhambra of Granada, in a tomb which will lie 
on the ground, and can be brushed with the feet; 
that my name be cut on a single, simple stone. 
But, if the king, my lord, choose a sepulchre in 
any other part of the kingdom, I wish my body to 
be exhumed and buried by his side, so that the 
union of our bodies in the tomb may signify the 
union of our hearts in life, as I hope God in His 
infinite mercy may permit that our souls be 
united in heaven.” The reign of Isabella inaugu¬ 
rated the Golden Age of Spanish history, and 
her name will forever shine in the galaxy of the 
world’s greatest women. The manufacture of 
cloths and silks were encouraged and developed 
by her aid at Segovia, Medina, Valencia, Toledo, 
and Granada, as also that of glass, steel weapons, 
leather, and silverware. Her zeal in fostering 
learning not only in the universities and among 
the nobles, but also among women, was such 
that Erasmus, the foremost scholar of his time, 
tells us that under her letters and liberal studies 
had reached so high a state that Spain served as 
a model to the cultivated nations of Europe. 

Returning to our hotel we made immediate 
preparations for the really great event of the day 
—the visit to the Alhambra, the former abode of 
the Moorish Kings. The word itself signifies in 
Arabic, the Red Castle, and is appropriately ap¬ 
plied to the huge structure, whose reddish walls 



66 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


and towers emerge from the depths of thick foli¬ 
age which nestles at its base. Memories of the 
“Seige of Granada,” and “Tales of the Alham¬ 
bra” have cast a spell of romance and oriental 
splendor over the place, and it was with a sense 
of bitter disappointment that I first crossed the 
threshold of the “Door of Justice” that leads to 
the inner sanctuary of the enchanted pile. It 
was whilst sitting at this portal in the olden 
times that the Moorish Caliphs dispensed justice 
to their subjects in accordance with Eastern cus¬ 
toms, references to which are frequently found 
in Holy Writ. Beneath this arch is a modest 
altar, erected in honor of the Blessed Virgin, and 
which has a deeply religious as well as historic 
significence, for here was celebrated the first 
Mass of thanksgiving by the victorious Spaniards 
before taking possession of this last stronghold of 
Arabian sovereignty. 

The Alhambra, at first sight, impresses the 
visitor as a crumbling ruin, whose final disinte¬ 
gration cannot possibly be postponed beyond a 
century or two at the most. The Moors seem to 
have been fatally wanting in the skill necessary 
to construct works of solid masonary capable 
alike of defying the ravages of time and the on¬ 
slaughts of men. The walls, for the most part, 
though very thick, are built of a mixture of brick, 
gravel, and cement, with no foundation, as far as 
could be observed, below the level of the ground. 
The action of the elements alone has had a dis- 


Spain. 


6 7 


astrous effect upon constructions of this sort, 
and a large portion of the walks have either 
fallen down, or are so badly cracked that it 
seems but a question of time when they will dis¬ 
appear entirely. Heroic efforts have been made 
at restoration, and with good effect, but to re¬ 
build the parts destroyed would require re¬ 
sources of such magnitude as Spain, in her pres¬ 
ent unsatisfactory financial condition, could not 
hope to supply. And yet, in its ruins, the Alham¬ 
bra is one of the greatest sights in all the world. 
Our guide, who knew the historic pile thorough¬ 
ly, conducted us through those portions which 
have still been spared by the gnawing tooth of 
time. We first entered the Court of Myrtles, as 
it was formerly called, when planted with them, 
now more generally styled de la Alberca, “of the 
Fish Pond,” or de la Barca, “of the Bark,” cor¬ 
ruptions probably from some Arabic word. 

The marble basin in the centre of the patio 
formerly surrounded with a Moorish balustrade, 
is filled with gold and silver fish, and margined 
by beds of flowers and aromatic shrubs. On the 
right was the former grand entrance of the 
Moors which Charles V. demolished to build his 
palace in its stead. A smaller entrance near it 
was the royal one, and could be used by kings 
alone. This, too, has disappeared with the 
larger. The saloons on the right were once the 
splendid apartments of the favorite queen. The 
colonnaded walks, the baths, the fountains and 


68 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the starred roofs attest their Oriental origin, and 
the palm-like columns of the patios are but the 
copies of Damascus. The words in Arabic, 
“There is no conqueror but God” are found in 
almost every piece of the exquisite tiling. As the 
Arabs were forbidden by the Koran to repre¬ 
sent animal life, they were compelled to seek 
other means of decoration, and selected texts 
from the Koran, and other terse sentences, which 
interwoven with flowers were imprinted by an 
iron mould on these pillars and tiles. The most 
extravagant praise has been bestowed upon these 
delicate, lace-like decorations of the Alhambra, 
and yet they are more the work of the skilled ar¬ 
tisan than the intellectual thought of the artist. 
Besides, they are wrought in stucco, and not in 
enduring marble, which deprives them of half 
their charm. The rich and elaborate carvings 
in stone of Spain’s great Cathedrals, Toledo, Se¬ 
ville, Burgos and Santiago, the flowering of 
Christian genius, immeasurably surpass the 
stucco creations of the Moor, although these lat¬ 
ter evoke rhapsodies of praise from the ^dis¬ 
criminating or prejudiced travel-lecturer while 
the magnificent productions of Catholic sculp¬ 
ture are silently ignored. 

We passed through an arched passage from 
the patio de la Alberca, and entered a beautiful 
pavilion, which with one, a fac-simile, directly 
opposite, leads to the famous Court of Lions, 
considered by most tourists the masterpiece of 


Spain. 


69 

the Alhambra. This courtyard is one hundred 
and twenty feet by sixty. More than one hun¬ 
dred columns of pure white marble support the 
peristyle, sometimes single, sometimes coupled, 
and sometimes grouped, so small, so delicate, 
that they scarcely seem able to support the arches 
which rest upon them. The walls within the 
peristyle are richly decorated in the usual Moor¬ 
ish fashion, with stucco, inlaid with inscrip¬ 
tions and flowers. The floor of the courtyard is 
paved with white marble, and is in a fair state of 
preservation. The alabaster fountain in the cen¬ 
tre rests upon the backs of twelve huge lions, and 
is itself surmounted by a smaller basin from 
whose centre, a stream in the form of a sheaf of 
wheat, starts out, and falling into the lower,final¬ 
ly empties itself into the reservoir where it en¬ 
counters twelve other streams from the mouths 
of the lions. These animals are rude specimens 
of sculpture, and have little in common with the 
masters of the African forests. Some of the most 
beautiful chambers of the Alhambra overlook 
this court. The richest in historical associations 
as well as one of the most exquisite decorations is 
the Hall of the Abencerages, around whose 
names cluster a crowd of sad memories. Oppo¬ 
site is the Hall of the Two Sisters, so called from 
two slabs of marble, of equal size, purity and 
brilliancy—sister-like in appearance—which are 
let into the pavement. There are alcoves on each 
side of the walls which were formerly used as 



7 ° 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


sleeping rooms, these having been the private 
apartments of the Moorish monarchs. The 
decorations of the walls and roofs are inimitable 
—as delicate as the finest lace, and as fanciful as 
the crystallizations of the morning frost. 

Perhaps the most magnificent of all the sump¬ 
tuous apartments of the Alhambra is the Hall of 
Ambassadors, where were held the receptions of 
the representatives of foreign kings. The audi¬ 
ence chamber occupies the whole interior of the 
Tower of Comares, and is a square of thirty- 
seven feet, with a height from the floor to the 
centre of the dome of seventy feet. Directly op¬ 
posite the entrance was the royal throne. The 
walls are decorated with arabesque and rich 
stucco, and the dome of cedar is covered with 
ornaments of gold almost invisible from its 
height. The walls are of immense thickness, as 
can be seen from the recesses in the windows. 

From the Hall of Ambassadors we passed to 
the Chamber of Repose, where the Sultan and 
Sultana rested after the bath. The gold, blue, 
and white mosaics of this unique room it is im¬ 
possible to describe. One stood wrapt in wonder 
and delight before this perfect creation of human 
art and genius. What this palace must have been 
in the days of its splendor may be inferred from 
the beauty of its ruins. One can imagine the pic¬ 
ture unfolded when its coloring, its tracery and 
gildings were all fresh, when its carvings and 
embellishments, its capitols and cornices were all 



Spain. 


7i 

untouched; when its countless columns of purest 
marble supported galleries and halls of match¬ 
less elegance; when the rich stuccoes and ara¬ 
besque illumined the walls; and the beautiful 
ceilings shone with the bright tints of the Arab¬ 
ian pencil; when every alabaster fountain scat¬ 
tered through the air its showers of glittering 
pearls, and tempered with a pervading freshness 
the grottoes and chambers of the bath. Now, 
indeed, it is the sepulchre, and not the habitation 
of the Moor. 

The view from the Torre de la Vela, at the 
highest elevation of the Alhambra is admittedly 
one of the finest in the world. From its topmost 
landing our guide pointed out Granada and the 
far-famed Vega. 

The city rises some two thousand five hundred 
feet above the level of the sea, in the spurs of the 
mountains, which to the northeast attain an alti¬ 
tude of thirteen thousand feet, and like the Alps, 
are clothed in eternal snow. This snowy range 
not only tempers the otherwise intolerable heat 
of the midsummer, but sends down streams of 
fertilizing water to cover the earth with verdure 
—a beneficent Nile, supplying the want of rain, 
which during the summer months seldom favors 
Granada. The greater the heat, the more abund¬ 
ant the stream, so that whilst the atmosphere re¬ 
mains transparent, and the blue skies constant, 
the earth imbibes profuse moisture and is fertile 
in crops. 


6 


72 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Granada occupies the slope of two hills, and 
the intervening valley—the better part of the 
population inhabiting the latter. Its name is 
derived from its resemblance, imagined or real, 
to a half opened pomegranate (Granada), and 
from its musical sound well becomes a city rich 
in many attractions. 

As we stood upon this lofty tower, the Vega 
was unrolled before us, sparkling with villas and 
villages, seventy miles in circumference, and 
walled in by giant mountains. In the centre 
could be described the city of “Santa Fe,” built 
in eighty days, by Ferdinand and Isabella, to 
quarter the Christian host which had gathered 
from all parts of Spain to strike the final blow 
that was to deliver their beloved land from the 
Moslem domination forever. Not far distant 
from this historic spot is the hill called to this 
day “The Last Sigh of the Moor,’' where Boab- 
dil took his final view of beloved Granada, and 
listened to the reproachful words of his mother: 
“You do well to weep like a woman for what you 
could not defend like a man.” Our guide pointed 
to an inscription on one of the turrets of this 
tower, which says that on this spot the Christian 
standard was first raised by the hand of the great 
Cardinal Don Pedro Gonzales de Mendoza. 
Beside this banner, on which was embroidered a 
great silver cross, the emblem of this crusade, 
was planted the pennon of that warlike apostle, 
St. James, the patron saint of Spain, whose 



Spain. 


73 


soldiery had for eight centuries rushed into bat¬ 
tle with the thundering war-cry which often bore 
dismay to the Moslem hosts: “Santiago! Santi¬ 
ago!” Lastly, the royal standard was given to 
the breeze amid deafening shouts of “Castile! 
Casile!” At these sights and these sounds the 
Catholic kings sank upon their knees, and joined 
in the solemn anthem “Te Deum,” which was 
sung by the choristers of the royal chapel. This 
memorable event took place on the 6th of Janu¬ 
ary, 1492, the year of the discovery of America, 
and the feast of the Epiphany. The ages-long 
crusade of the heroic Spaniard for the redemp¬ 
tion of his native soil was at last crowned with 
glorious success. Let prejudiced critics say 
what they may, the fact remains that the alien 
Moor was a hostile invader who ruled the Chris¬ 
tian inhabitants with a rod of iron, and by the 
inviolable right of a nation to defend and pre¬ 
serve its national life, Spain was justified in ex¬ 
pelling the Moslem intruder. 

Descending the Torre de la Vela we pro¬ 
ceeded to the palace of Charles V. The build¬ 
ing, in its present state, is but half completed. 
The outer decorations are full of richness, and 
the principal entrance, majestic. The orna¬ 
ments of the windows and grand portal have 
been attributed to Berruguete. The interior is 
composed of two circuitious galleries, one above 
the other, overlooking a large circular Doric and 
Ionic courtyard. The palace appears to the visi- 


74 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


tor as a magnificent ruin, which, from its vast di¬ 
mensions, and artistic embellishments, would 
have made, if completed, one of the most sump¬ 
tuous royal residences in the world. 

A deep narrow glen, thick with fig trees, 
pomegranates and myrtles separates the fortress 
of the Alhambra from the Generalise, a palace 
perched on the mountain side, and occupied, in 
times past, by one of the Moorish Sultans, who 
considered it a cooler resort, from its more ele¬ 
vated position, than the Alhambra. The gardens 
surrounding this abode are arranged in terraces, 
and filled with a variety of shrubbery, flowers, 
cypress trees, and palms. The principal build¬ 
ing of the Generalise contains the gallery of 
portraits, which, like those of the Alhambra is 
borne up by marble columns, and richly decor¬ 
ated with stuccoed ceilings and arabesque. The 
portraits themselves seem to possess but little 
artistic merit. Dominating the Generalise is a 
bold, rugged height, called the “Seat of the 
Moor,” where tradition says Boabdil was wont 
to fly to escape the popular insurrections of the 
city, and remain all day upon its rocky summit. 
The ruins of a Moorish building, and of the 
Spanish chapel of St. Elena, are still to be seen. 
The prospect from this height is unquestionably 
one of the most glorious that eyes can behold. 

A visit to the famous Albaicin gypsy quarter, 
situated some distance from the Alhambra, 
brought our day of sightseeing to a close. These 



THE COURT OF THE LIONS—ALHAMBRA 














Spain. 


75 


strange people, whose origin is lost in the mists 
of antiquity, live in caverns along the hillside, 
and support themselves in the usual gypsy fash¬ 
ion, by horse trading and fortune telling. They 
bear an unsavory reputation, and the stranger is 
warned against remaining within the confines of 
their settlement after nightfall. Our stay 
amongst them was brief and devoid of interest. 

The morning of our second day in Granada 
was spent in the city itself. Its inhabitants num¬ 
ber nearly a hundred thousand, and it ranks 
amongst the greatest centres of population in 
Spain. A walk through its principal streets 
affords an opportunity to observe many grati¬ 
fying evidences of progress and modern ac¬ 
tivity. Granada seems to possess more of the 
wide-awake, twentieth-century spirit than any 
other towns in Andalusia. Broad and well- 
kept thoroughfares, like those of our fore¬ 
most American cities, are lined on both 
sides with large office buildings, handsome 
hotels, apartment houses, retail shops, and 
even department stores. In the older quar¬ 
ters of the town, however, one may witness the 
same primitive customs of the Spain of centuries 
ago. One especially which attracts the attention 
of the stranger is the milking of the cows and 
goats before the houses of customers. The don¬ 
key here, as elsewhere in Spain, is much in evi¬ 
dence, and performs the work which, in Ameri¬ 
can cities, is usually done by the horse, wagon 


76 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

and dray. In the late afternoon, whilst strolling 
through the incomparable park, we saw the 
fashion, culture and wealth of Granada driving 
to the Alhambra to hear the concert given there 
by a famous military band from Madrid. The 
equipages were as handsome as any to be seen on 
the Paris boulevards, filled with as beautifully 
and elegantly dressed ladies and their faultlessly 
attired escorts as could be met with in any of the 
world’s leading capitals. It was a pleasant sur¬ 
prise to us, accustomed as we had been to the 
portrayal of the Southern Spaniard, as one hope¬ 
lessly retrogressive and half submerged in ignor¬ 
ance and superstition. Such views evidently are 
strongly colored by racial or religious prejudice. 
If it be true, as some one has said, that the his¬ 
tory of a people is its architecture, Spain can 
point to her incomparable churches, which af¬ 
ford the most convincing evidence of the love of 
the Spaniard for the fine arts, and his freedom 
from everything that smacks of barbarism and 
unenlightenment. 

The morning of our third day’s sojourn in 
Granada was spent in a second visit to the Cathe¬ 
dral. The sacristan with the usual Spanish 
courtesy acted as our guide in a tour through the 
sacred edifice, and finally exhibited the treasures, 
for which the church is famous. Amongst the 
most precious were the crowns and sceptres of 
Ferdinand and Isabella, a magnificent “custo- 
dia,” or tabernacle, in which the Blessed Sacra- 


Spain. 


77 


merit is carried in solemn processions through 
the streets of the city, nearly a ton in weight, and 
made of pure silver, highly chased with gold; 
chalices and ostensoriums of the same precious 
metal, embellished with diamonds and other 
precious stones, and a crucifix made of the first 
gold brought from America—a replica of the 
one we had seen at Seville. In its collection of 
sacred vestments, the Cathedral is exceptionally 
rich. A magnificent set, heavily embroidered in 
gold, the work of the pious Isabella herself, was 
shown for our admiration. Although more than 
four hundred years old, they are in a remarkable 
state of preservation, and are still used on extra¬ 
ordinary ecclesiastical solemnities. Many of the 
historic banners borne by the chivalry of Spain 
during the seige of Granada are also amongst the 
most valued possessions of the treasury. 


MADRID. 

The luxuries of American travel are sadly 
missing on Spanish railways, as we thoroughly 
realized on the long journey from Southern to 
Central Spain—from Granada to Madrid. The 
train was filled to overflowing, no sleeping car 
berths were to be had at any price, and we were 
compelled to sit up all night in a compartment 
which was so miserably crowded that sleep was 




78 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

quite impossible. This congested condition of 
passenger traffic, we were told, was due to the 
enormous influx of visitors from nearly all the 
countries of Europe, who were journeying to 
Madrid to attend the twenty second Interna¬ 
tional Eucharistic Congress. Our fellow travel¬ 
lers were mostly foreigners, like ourselves, Bel¬ 
gians, French, and Germans, who had taken ad¬ 
vantage of their trip to the Congress to visit the 
famous cities of Southern Spain. The thousands 
of strangers who poured into the country like an 
invading army during the week of the great 
gathering seem to have taxed the facilities 
of the railroads to the utmost, and as Spain is 
rather sparsely supplied with these modern high¬ 
ways of communication, the inconveniences to 
the tourist were very annoying. Utterly fatigued 
and exhausted by our long vigil on the train, we 
were glad to retire for a few hours’ rest, after 
reaching our hospitable quarters at the Chris¬ 
tian Brothers' College in Madrid. This institu¬ 
tion is situated on the outskirts of the city, and is 
well supplied with spacious gardens and shady 
walks. Our hosts received the pilgrims from 
far-off America with open arms, and lavished 
upon us every attention that genuine Spanish 
hospitality could suggest. Whatever may be the 
failings of the Spaniard, indifference or neglect 
to the stranger within the gates is assuredly not 
one of them. The thousands of visitors to the 
Congress from foreign lands were deeply im- 


Spain. 


79 


pressed with this characteristic virtue of the peo¬ 
ple, and returned home with the pleasantest 
memories of their sojourn in the Spanish capital 

Madrid lies on an elevated table-land two 
thousand four hundred feet above the sea. Its 
location closely corresponds to the mathematical 
centre of the peninsula. Railroad lines from 
every part of Spain converge at the capital, like 
spokes in a wheel, and render communication 
with the distant provinces of the kingdom easy 
and rapid. The development of these modern 
highways has progressed slower in Spain than in 
most of the other countries of Europe, due in 
great measure to lack of capital, and to the topo¬ 
graphy of the country which presents engineer¬ 
ing difficulties of an unusual character. No phys¬ 
ical agency, however, knits a people more close¬ 
ly together than the modern railroad, and once 
Spain is covered with a net-work of these arteries 
of commerce and transportation her national 
unity and prosperity are assured. 

The transition from the orange groves of Se¬ 
ville to the capital on the central highlands sug¬ 
gests a change from mediaeval to modern times. 
Compared to the cities of Andalusia, Madrid is 
a modern municipality, in the usual acceptation 
of the term. Its history dates back only to the 
reign of Charles V., who determined to make it 
the seat of his kingdom. In former times, Tole¬ 
do, Vallidolid, and Seville, were in turn the cen¬ 
tre of royal government, and it is owing to the 


8o 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


caprice of a monarch rather than any excep¬ 
tional natural advantages that Madrid was 
chosen as the capital. Philip II. enlarged and 
embellished the city with parks, museums, 
churches, and public buildings on such a lavish 
scale that its reputation spread throughout Eu¬ 
rope. Its climate has been almost universally 
condemned as unhealthy, an opinion which finds 
expression in the well known proverb: “Nine 
months hibernal and three months infernal.” 
The writer is free to acknowledge, however, that 
the weather was ideal during his stay in Madrid 
in the last week of June. The atmosphere was 
bracing in the early morning hours, and even to¬ 
wards mid-day the sun’s rays were tempered by 
a refreshing breeze. 

The chief centre of the life and animation of 
the capital is the famous Puerta del Sol, or gate¬ 
way of the Sun. It is so called because formerly 
it was the Eastern portal of the city which first 
greeted the dawn, but as the capital developed 
towards the west, it became the centre of the 
great metropolis. Here may be met every type 
of the thirteen provinces that constitute modern 
Spain, the grave mysterious Basque from the 
North; the gay, light-hearted peasant from An¬ 
dalusia; the active, progressive native from Cat¬ 
alonia. All the leading banks, business houses, 
and the chief government buildings are grouped 
around this square, and the scenes presented to 
the eye of the stranger, suggest the changing 


Spain. 


8i 


colors of a kaleidoscope. Crowds of men of af¬ 
fairs, statesmen, financiers, noblemen, laborers, 
vendors of wares of all kinds, news-criers, bull 
fighters in their picturesque garb, idlers, beg¬ 
gars, curiosity seekers—throng this thorough¬ 
fare from early dawn till midnight. Few streets 
in the world present so animated an atmosphere 
as the Puerta del Sol. During the Congress the 
air of activity which it always wears was intensi¬ 
fied by the thousands of strangers from all parts 
of Europe and America, who swelled the current 
of human life that swept through its many ar¬ 
teries leading to every part of the city. There is 
little of the antique in Madrid. One misses the 
glorious cathedrals so common to the other cities 
of Spain. The fever of modern life is in its veins, 
and its public buildings, parks, art galleries, and 
splendid residential sections, remind one more of 
the gay capital of France than of the Land of the 
Don. The royal palace is generally admitted to 
be one of the finest kingly residences in the 
world. It is situated at the extreme western end 
of the city. The exterior, of Renaissance style, 
is of extraordinary length, and very imposing. 
It faces an extensive plaza, capable of holding 
two army corps, and is bordered on either side 
and the rear by luxuriant gardens of ample pro¬ 
portions, adorned with statues and running 
fountains. 

The principal features of the palace are the 
grand staircase and the throne room. The for- 


82 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


mer, of black and white marble, is one of the 
most magnificent in the world, so broad that 
twenty men abreast could easily ascend it. Na¬ 
poleon entered this palace, and trod these stairs 
when master of Spain, and voiced his admiration 
at its surpassing grandeur. 

The unrivalled staircase furnishes a fitting en¬ 
trance to the superb throne room, whose floor is 
paved with marble mosaic. Suspended from the 
ceiling are the famous chandeliers of rock crys¬ 
tal, whilst the walls glisten with huge mirrors, 
framed in the most delicately carved precious 
marbles. Statues of lions guard the steps of the 
throne, which is flanked by two graceful female 
figures. The entire audience chamber is lavish¬ 
ly adorned with costly vases, statuary in bronze 
and marble, and numerous other works of art. 

The most interesting feature of this celebrated 
palace, however, to the lover of history, is the 
famous Armory located in one of the wings of 
the building. Competent critics have pro¬ 
nounced it the finest and most extensive collec¬ 
tion of the kind in the world. The writer, who 
has seen most of the other armorial museums in 
the leading capitals of Europe, notably, those at 
Vienna, Dresden and London, thoroughly agrees 
with this judgment. To spend a few hours in 
this storehouse and treasury of ancient armor is 
to acquire a knowledge of Spanish history that 
years of reading could not effect. As one enters 
the armory he passes down the centre of a large 


Spain. 


83 

hall. On either side are ranged knights, chief¬ 
tains, kings, princes, emperors on horseback, man 
and beast clad in complete suits of armor, chain, 
steel and every other conceivable variety. Their 
hands encased in gauntlets, holding firmly their 
long spears of glittering steel, their ostrich 
plumes adorning their helmets give to them an 
appearance truly lifelike. Many of the coats of 
mail worn by these manikins are masterpieces of 
the armorer’s art, polished steel chased with 
gold. They are, for the most part, creations of 
the armor workers of Nurnberg, the most fa¬ 
mous masters of their time. Amongst the best 
specimens of their skill are the suits of mail worn 
by children, usually princes of the reigning 
house. For minuteness of detail and perfection 
of finish they are difficult to surpass. Amongst 
the most interesting coats of armor from the his¬ 
torical point of view are those of the great Em¬ 
peror Charles V., of his no less famous son, 
Philip II, of Christopher Columbus, of Garce- 
laso de la Vega, the Bayard of Spain, of Don 
John of Austria, whose victory of Lepanto broke 
the sea-power of the Turk forever. The banners 
captured from the Moslem fleets, and a number 
of the prows of his victorious vessels, which the 
spectator beholds, affords a more vivid realiza¬ 
tion of the great combat that decided the fate of 
Europe and Christian civilization than any 
printed page could convey. The history of 
Spain may here be read, from the earliest 


84 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


days, in the rude crowns of the Visigoth kings, 
in the swords of Pelayo, the dread foeman of the 
Moors, St. Ferdinand of Castile, Cortez, the 
conqueror of Mexico, and Pizarro, the master of 
Peru. The armor of Isabella, and that of the 
great captain, Gonsalvo de Cordova, side by side 
with the coat of mail of the unfortunate Boabdil, 
engraved in Moorish characters, speak eloquent¬ 
ly of the close of the mighty struggle between 
the cross and the cresent that lasted for more 
than seven hundred years. The walls, likewise, 
of this historic chamber are covered with hel¬ 
mets, swords battleaxes, spears, ancient muskets, 
and other warlike weapons, whilst from the ceil¬ 
ings are suspended myriads of banners and flags, 
battle-scarred and yellow with age, borne to vic¬ 
tory on many a bloody field throughout the 
world by the conquering legions of Spain. An 
interesting relic is the tent of Francis I., King of 
France, captured at the Battle of Pavia, in 1525, 
when that monarch himself was taken prisoner, 
and his army almost annihilated by the Span¬ 
iards under Marshal Lannoy. Walking through 
the long corridors of this historic hall, one is car¬ 
ried back in imagination three centuries ago to 
the golden era of national greatness, when Spain 
was the acknowledged mistress of two worlds, 
when her fighting men were the best in Europe, 
and her daring explorers and intrepid soldiers 
of fortune penetrated the fastnesses of the Amer¬ 
ican continent. She lives again amidst these 


Spain. 


85 


mute but eloquent memorials of former glories, 
and the stranger realizes here as nowhere else 
the tremendous part she has played in the desti¬ 
nies of mankind. 

In the arts of peace rather than those of war, 
however, Madrid offers the greatest attraction to 
the tourist, for in her renowned picture gallery 
on the Prado she has undoubtedly the finest col¬ 
lection of masterpieces in the world. Even 
Florence, with her vast Uffizzi and Pitti palaces, 
must yield the palm in this respect, for although 
the latter may contain a larger assemblage of 
paintings, the Prado easily surpasses them in the 
exclusiveness of its canvases. The Spanish kings 
wielded sovereign power in the Netherlands 
when Dutch and Flemish art had reached its 
zenith, and as a consequence many of the greatest 
creations of these schools found their way to the 
courts of these monarchs. Charles V., as Em¬ 
peror of Germany and virtually dictator of Italy, 
laid the best masters of those countries also un¬ 
der tribute, and the result of his efforts and those 
of his son Philip II. are seen in this peerless 
Museum, which is not a Spanish, but an interna¬ 
tional collection of the cream of the pictorial art. 
Hanging from the walls of this gallery or resting 
on easels are no less than forty-six paintings by 
Murillo, ten by Raphael, sixteen by Guido, for¬ 
ty-three by Titian, sixty-four by Velasquez, the 
favorite artist of Phillip II., twenty-five by Paul 
Veronese, thirty-four by Tintoretto, sixty-two by 


86 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Rubens, fifty-three by Tenier, whilst Van Dyke, 
Rembrandt, and the renowned Spanish school of 
Zurburran, Goya, El Greco, and many other 
lesser lights are represented by some of their 
most famous canvases. The lover of art has here 
a feast spread before him whose sumptuousness 
is overwhelming. The memories of his visits to 
this temple of human genius will serve to mark 
an epoch in his life, and the impressions of 
beauty and rich coloring here gained, will con¬ 
stitute an imperishable remembrance. 

The dominant name amongst this galaxy of 
masters is the Spaniard Velasquez. Had the 
Prado no other works but those of art of this 
peerless painter, it would still rank amongst the 
leading galleries of the world. It is an un¬ 
rivalled collection of one master that no words 
can exaggerate. Though he laid aside the brush 
more than two hundred years ago, his canvases 
glow with such richness of color, and absolute 
fidelity of expression that they seem the work of 
yesterday. “Don Carlos stands dangling a glove 
in an absolutely natural movement of nonchal¬ 
ance, Philip IV. and the pompous Duke of 
Olivares ride their proud steeds out of magnifi- 
cant skies, the gallant little Don Baltasar Carlos 
dashes at us on his pot-bellied pony, or stands a 
baby hunter in the Guadarramas. Velasquez 
painted him later a grave dignified lad of four¬ 
teen, always with a fearless straight look, and he 
also painted his piquant Bourbon mother, Philip 


Spain. 


87 


the Fourth’s frail wife. Portraits and genre 
studies, the lovely bent neck of the weaving girl 
the living breathingness of the maids of honor, 
the displeasing dwarfs, each canvas is an 
achieved success.”* 

Next to Velasquez, Murillo shines out pre¬ 
eminently with a collection of his paintings sec¬ 
ond only to that of Seville. It is a remarkable 
fact that both of Spain’s greatest masters of the 
brush should have been born in the same city, on 
the banks of the Quadalquivir, and should have 
lived and died within a short time of each other. 
So delicate are his flesh tints that the Spaniards 
said of him that he painted with milk and blood. 
To appreciate his genius, one must study his 
wonderful conceptions here and at Seville, as, 
unlike the Italian, Flemish, and other masters, 
few copies or photographs of his numerous 
works are to be met with outside of Spain. 

The Venetian school is richly represented here 
in Titian, the greatest of all portrait painters. 
His equestrian portrait of Charles V. at the Bat¬ 
tle of Muhlberg is considered the best of its kind 
in the world. Another picture of the Emperor 
standing, and one of Philip II. in like attitude, 
are by the same master hand. A portrait that 
arouses many historical memories in the mind of 
the American spectator is that of Mary Tudor, 
Queen of England, daughter of Catherine of 
Aragon and Henry VIII., and wife of Philip II. 
of Spain. At the command of Charles V. the 


* Heroic Spain. 



88 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Spanish artist Antonio Moro was sent to Eng¬ 
land to paint the picture of his prospective 
daughter-in-law, for the contemplation of her 
bridegroom. Philip was still in his twenties, 
whilst she was not far from forty. She is por¬ 
trayed richly dressed, and seated stiff and erect 
in a high back crimson leather chair. Her face 
wears an extremely homely, but serious expres¬ 
sion, and not a trace of beauty is to be observed in 
her rigid features. Her union with the heir to 
the Spanish throne was evidently one of those 
“marriages de convenence,” so common in the 
lives of royalty. Amongst other notable por¬ 
traits in this superb collection are of those of 
Rembrandt’s wife, by himself, and a Roman 
Cardinal by Raphael. The number of canvases 
by Rubens is equalled perhaps nowhere else in 
the world He is said to have painted five hun¬ 
dred pictures during his artistic career, of which 
more than one-tenth are to be found in this gal¬ 
lery alone. An incident which throws some 
light on the monetary value of the treasures of 
this museum may be related here. After our 
late war with Spain, the question of demanding 
an indemnity amounting to millions of dollars 
was discussed by the press and public men of 
the nation. A leading editorial in one of the 
great New York dailies admitted, in the course 
of the argument, the financial inability of Spain 
to pay the enormous expenses of the war in cash, 
but, at the same time, pointed to her Prado 


Spain. 


89 

Museum as a valuable asset, the transfer of 
which to the United States would fully cancel 
every dollar of indebtedness. Needless to say 
the suggestion was never acted upon, and if the 
proposal had been made it would have been in¬ 
dignantly rejected. 

The crowning event of our stay in Madrid, 
and the real magnet which drew our steps to the 
Spanish capitol, was the imposing ceremonial 
of the Twenty-second International Eucharistic 
Congress. It was an inspiring manifestation of 
the Catholic life of Spain. Last year the Con¬ 
gress was held for the first time on American 
soil at Montreal, amidst a people born of yester¬ 
day, but possessing already a vitality and tradi¬ 
tions that have proved impregnable to every as¬ 
sault. The present year it finds itself in the chief 
city of an ancient and historic nation, whose 
Catholic origin may be traced back to the dawn 
of Christianity, and whose ecclesiastical annals 
are emblazoned by names of saints revered 
throughout the entire church of Christ 
Amongs the more illustrious are those of St. Isa- 
dore of Seville St. Ildefonsus of Toledo, St. 
Vincent Ferrer, St. Pascal Baylon, St. Isadore 
of Madrid, St. John of the Cross of Avila, and 
greatest of all, St. Teresa and St. Ignatius of 
Loyola. Spain is pre-eminently the land of the 
Eucharist. She owes the purity of her faith to 
her ancient councils, at which the custom pre¬ 
vailed of exposing the Blessed Sacrament for 


90 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


adoration in the Tabernacle. When the Iberian 
peninsula was overrun by the Moors, the “league 
of Pelayo,” in the cave of Cavadonga, in virtue 
of which the Christian conquest was undertaken, 
was a Eucharistic covenant declaring the sover¬ 
eignty of the sacramental Christ. It was at this 
time the custom arose, peculiar to Spain, of con¬ 
structing Eucharistic cars, in which the Blessed 
Sacrament was carried into battle against the in¬ 
fidel. That of the Cid is still preserved at Burgos, 
those of the Kings of Aragon at Barcelona, and 
those of Ferdinand and Isabella at Granada. 
The oaths of the kings were always taken on the 
Eucharist, and all the aliances entered into by 
the Spaniards for the recovery of their ancient 
liberties, as well as all legal enactments, had for 
their basis the sacrament of the altar. It was 
after receiving Holy Communion at the Con¬ 
vent of La Rabida at Palos that Christopher 
Columbus set out on his epoch-making dis¬ 
coveries. In modern times, Spain, with its 
numerous eucharistic centres, and its flourishing 
societies of the Nocturnal Adoration, fully main¬ 
tains its ancient renown as the land of the Blessed 
Sacrament. 

The great Congress, which lasted from the 
23d of June till the first of July, opened with a 
solemn reception of the Papal Legate Cardinal 
Aguirre, Archbishop of Toledo and Primate of 
Spain. It typified in the number and character 
of its members the universality of the Catholic 


Spain. 


9 1 


Church. Besides the Spanish section, where 
papers were read and discussions held, all bear¬ 
ing on the Eucharistic Mystery, there were 
French, Italian, English, Irish, German and 
Austro-Hungarian sections. The two principal 
features of the Congress were the communion of 
the children in the open air at the Retiro Park, 
and the great procession which marked its close. 
Twenty-five thousand little girls and boys as¬ 
sembled at the circle which surrounds the Mar¬ 
tinez Campos statue. At an early hour the street 
cars running from every section of the capital 
were crowded with children, the girls wearing 
white veils over their white dresses, on their way 
to the park whilst thousands of men and women 
could be seen hastening in the same direction. 
This extraordinary gathering of children, ac¬ 
companied by their parents, and the multitude of 
visitors to the Congress, all fervent and recol¬ 
lected, afforded a grand and imposing manifes¬ 
tation of Catholic faith and piety. There was a 
picturesqueness about the scene—the com¬ 
munion of thousands of innocent souls under an 
ideal blue sky, and in a “temple not made with 
hands,” whose vaulted, leafy nave was supported 
by pillars of tall and majestic trees. The broad 
avenues of the Retiro were thronged at seven in 
the morning, with groups of young communi¬ 
cants, who were assembling around three altars 
that were erected at the circle, Del Salvador, 
where four shady paths converge. The masses 



92 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


of communion were celebrated by the Arch¬ 
bishops of Tarragona and Petra, the latter, the 
former incumbent of the See of Manila before 
the American occupation, and the Bishop of 
Madrid. The tenuous white veils of the little 
girls wafted by the gentle morning breezes, their 
young, pure voices resounding through the 
woods like the delicious warbling of song birds, 
themultitudesof banners of all varieties of colors, 
undulating amidst the thickly foliaged allees 
made a spectacle truly ravishing. During the 
celebration of Mass several priests addressed the 
children, reminding them of the solemnity of 
the act they were about to perform. 

Suddenly the sounds of the Royal March re¬ 
echoed through the park, as a signal to the thou¬ 
sands of worshippers that the moment of conse¬ 
cration had arrived, when the Eucharistic Sa¬ 
viour would come to bless the multitude assem¬ 
bled in His name. An awed stillness reigns over 
that vast congregation on bended knees, no sound 
is heard save the echoes of the birds of the forest, 
the warm sunlight casts deep shadows athwart 
the dewy grass—the whole scene forming a pic¬ 
ture worthy of a great master. During the com¬ 
munion which was administered by the Arch¬ 
bishop of Montreal, Mgr. Bruchesi, and the 
Bishop of Beja, the military band discoursed ap¬ 
propriate music. At the close of the solemn 
ceremony the children again raised their voices 
to Heaven in tones of thanksgiving and ador- 



Spain. 


93 


ation, and defiling before the Papal Legate re¬ 
ceived his paternal blessing and were dismissed. 
This unique and touching participation of the 
children in the solemnities of the Eucharistic 
Congress will remain in the memories of all who 
were privileged to witness it, as the realization 
of the appeal of Him who has said, “Suffer little 
children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, 
for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.” 

The crowning glory of the Congress, however, 
was the magnificent procession, in which Catho¬ 
lic Spain crystallized her faith, her piety, and 
her centuries-old allegiance to the Blessed Sac¬ 
rament. Never before in its history has Madrid 
witnessed so brilliant a spectacle, not even at the 
coronation of Spanish sovereigns. All business 
houses were closed, and all work suspended in 
the afternoon of the day appointed for the 
solemn pageant. The entire population of six 
hundred thousand souls, besides the multitudes 
of visitors, was emptied into the streets, and 
formed a compact lane of humanity more than 
two miles long from the starting point of the pro¬ 
cession at the church of San Jeronimus to the ter¬ 
minus at the royal palace. Every window, bal¬ 
cony, and roof along the line of march was 
densely filled with spectators whose reverential 
attitude was in keeping with the solemnity of 
the occasion. More than fifty thousand men 
were in line when the procession began to move 
at 4 P. M., through the lavishly decorated 


94 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


streets. The entire route was thickly strewn 
with evergreens, and the air was redolent with 
the fragrance of carnations, roses and jasmines 
thrown by the hardy and quaintly costumed sons 
of Valencia from their native carts, in honor of 
the Blessed Sacrament. They formed the van¬ 
guard of the whole line and were proceeded by 
a band of musicians discoursing stirring airs. 
Following them came a fife and drum corps in 
brilliant costumes, playing a spirited march. 
Behind them advanced the equerries of the royal 
household with powered wigs and gold em¬ 
broidered coats. Thousands of members of the 
Catholic Young Men’s Society marched next, 
preceded by their richly decorated banner, and 
chanting hymns. After them followed the game- 
wardens of the aristocracy in picturesque garb. 
The majority of them wore a brown coat bor¬ 
dered with blue and gold. Those of Salamanca 
attracted special attention by their velvet cos¬ 
tumes and varities of colors. 

Perhaps the most touching and impressive 
feature of the magnificent pageant now made its 
appearance—the tens of thousands of Spanish 
workingmen from all parts of the kingdom, each 
wearing the distinctive dress of his province. 
Myriads of joyous banners floated above their 
heads, one of which that of the delegation from 
Valencia, thirty feet in height, was made entire¬ 
ly of the choicest natural flowers. Behind them 
came the almost interminable line of Catholic 


Spain. 


95 


workers, preceded by the standard of Our Lady 
of the Pillar. In their ranks walked some of the 
most distinguished men of Spain, amongst others 
the late Prime Minister Maura and his former 
colleague Lacierva. Next in line were a group 
of sailors of the Spanish Transatlantic Company, 
then the representatives of the army in uniform, 
followed by delegations of the Diplomatic 
Corps, whose presence testified to the world¬ 
wide homage rendered the Blessed Sacrament. 
The next great body to pass were the confrater¬ 
nities of the parishes of Madrid, composed of all 
classes of citizens, artists, scientists, physicians, 
lawyers, delegates of the universities, bankers, 
nobles and working men. More than three thou¬ 
sand banners were carried in this section alone. 
After them marched the various divisions of the 
Nocturnal Adoration League, an organization 
spread throughout Spain, with standards of pure 
white, to the number of seven hundred. Such a 
valuable collection of banners, most of them 
made of the richest material, and revealing the 
marvelous art of the needle and painter’s brush 
was probably never seen before. It was an im¬ 
posing spectacle, and a profound revelation of 
the love of the Spanish people for the Blessed 
Sacrament. 

In the next division of the procession marched 
numerous bodies of laymen, members of the dif¬ 
ferent Third Orders dressed in religious garb. 
Behind them followed the most picturesque and 


96 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


brilliant section in the entire line, the Grandees 
of Spain, and the representatives of the great his¬ 
toric Military Orders, whose names are asso¬ 
ciated with the crusades of the East for the re¬ 
covery of the Holy Sepulchre, and the struggle 
against the Moors in Spain. The Knights of St. 
John of Jerusalem, and of the Holy Sepulchre, 
the Knights of Calatrava and Santiago were re¬ 
splendent in their gorgeous costumes, white 
coats, red trousers, and snowy white plumes, with 
the crimson cross of their order embroidered on 
their breasts. The long line of secular clergy, 
more than 5,000, of all nationalities, next came 
into view, then the seminarians from all parts of 
Spain, then the regular clergy of the various 
Orders, Jesuits, Carmelites, Augustinians, Ben¬ 
edictines, Dominicans, Franciscans, Trinitarians 
and others to the number of one thousand. The 
chamberlains of the Cape and Sword followed 
in rich costumes, behind them walked the canons 
of the great Spanish cathedrals, dressed in robes 
of purple and silk, and lastly the bishops and 
archbishops, with their chaplains. 

The Blessed Sacrament is borne in a chariot 
moved by eight men, wearing picturesque cos¬ 
tumes and with powdered wigs, and preceded by 
incense, acolytes and a choir of several hundred 
voices. The ostensorium surmounted a custo- 
dia or tabernacle of pure silver, almost a ton in 
weight, and a work of exquisite architecture. It 
is the property of the municipality of Madrid. 


Spain. 


97 


In the magnificence of the military display the 
great Eucharistic procession far surpassed in 
splendor all its predecessors. A double line of 
artillery, with all the trappings of war, richly 
caparisoned, formed a semi-circle before the fa¬ 
cade of the church of San Jeronimus, leaving a 
large open space before the entrance. Files of 
cavalry and infantry in full-dress uniform were 
stretched along both sides of the route from the 
starting point of the procession to the Royal 
Palace, a distance of two miles; soldiers on foot 
being substituted for mounted men on streets too 
narrow for the cavalry. More than ten thou¬ 
sand troops, the flower of the Spanish army, 
formed the escort of honor. The glint of their 
sabres, the glowing colors of their rich uniforms, 
and the athletic appearance of the young men 
sitting erect on handsome horses added brillian¬ 
cy to the scene. 

At the moment when the Holy of Holies, 
borne by the Papal Legate, leaves the church to 
begin the long triumphal procession through the 
crowded streets of the capital to the King’s Pal¬ 
ace, the feeling is intense. Every infantryman 
bends his right knee, and grounds his arms, the 
cavalrymen bow profoundly on their mounts, 
their sabres pointing downwards, the officers, 
with drawn swords, stand as rigid as statues, 
whilst the multitudes on the streets and in the 
balconies prostrate themselves in silent adora- 

X 

tion. Having placed the ostensorium on the 


98 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

“custodia,” the Legate marches immediately in 
its rear, followed by a detachment of cuirassiers, 
and the superb royal coach, drawn by eight 
horses, caparisoned in red, white and gold. It 
is without occupants, but has a place in line as a 
mark of honor. Behind the king’s carriage fol¬ 
lows a long line of magnificent coaches of the 
Grandees of Spain. The pageant closes with a 
body of cuirassiers, and as the troops of cavalry 
are gradually released from their duties of 
guarding the route, they serve to form the last 
section of the imposing cortege. 

The procession traverses a veritable “Trium- 
phal Way” from the church of San Jeronimus to 
the vast plaza of the Armory of the Royal Pal¬ 
ace. Along the entire route the houses are pro¬ 
fusely decorated; the red and yellow colors of 
Spain span the balconies with their ample folds, 
the streets are tastefully adorned with variegated 
bunting. At short distances columns painted in 
white and green rear their graceful proportions, 
surmounted by a triple cross or a globe; at their 
summit floats a banner fringed with gold, whose 
upper portion displays a shield with a white 
cross on a red or blue background. Midway 
of these columns are bands of red velvet, bor¬ 
dered with gold. This combination of vivid col¬ 
ors floating in the clear blue sky of a summer 
afternoon presents to the eye a vision truly en¬ 
chanting. In the midst of this royal way, bor¬ 
dered by a vast and reverential multitude, the 


Spain. 


99 


procession moves in solemn splendor; it de¬ 
scends the wide street of Philp IV., then issues 
on the Plaza Canovas, black with humanity. 
Everywhere the Blessed Sacrament is acclaimed 
by unnumbered Spaniards and visitors with a 
fervor worthy of the glorious days of old, when 
their sires carried the Sacred Ark of the New 
Covenant into battle against the Infidel. 

The procession passes along the Prado, a broad 
avenue bordered with trees and lined with re¬ 
viewing stands, until it comes to a halt at Casa¬ 
nova Square, where solemn Benediction is to be 
given. A monumental Arch of Triumph has 
been erected at this point; from its summit there 
falls a profusion of the fairest flowers, whilst 
more than a thousand doves, liberated at either 
pinnacle of the arch, fly in graceful circles 
around the Blessed Sacrament. The temporary 
altar on which the Blessed Sacrament reposes 
is an architectural gem, and its beauty is en¬ 
hanced by its rare decorations—gorgeous tapes¬ 
tries and velvets, representing sacred scenes, a 
life-size silver statue of the Blessed Virgin, sur¬ 
mounted by a collection of choicest flowers and 
plants. 

After the Cardinal Legate had imparted the 
Benediction, the famous “seises” from the Cathe¬ 
dral of Seville executed their graceful move¬ 
ments before the Blessed Sacrament. Their so- 
called “dance” has already been described in 
previous pages. It was the first time it had ever 


IOO 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


taken place outside the Cathedral itself. Their 
clear, young and well-trained voices blended in 
exquisite harmony as they rendered several an¬ 
cient hymns of praise of the Blessed Sacrament, 
the translation of one of which is as follows: 

“Ye holy daughters of Sion 
Go forth, go forth and see 
The terrible majesty 
Of the Eternal Solomon. 

Come, come, adore 

With an adoration profound, 

Come, his heart is there! 

Precious casket of rubies, 

Broken on the wood of the Cross, 

Fragrant bouquet of carnations; 

0 Divine Heart of my Jesus, 

Thou shalt be my shield, 

Thou shalt be my life, 

Thou shalt be one day 
The splendor of my glory.” 

The procession now passes through the Calle 
d' Alcala, which is one mass of garlands and 
bunting, on past the Ministry of War, whose 
capacious gardens extend towards the left, 
through avenues densely lined with multitudes 
of humanity, until it reaches the Puerto del Sol, 
the centre of Madrid. From this broad plaza it 
proceeds along the “Calle Major,” the most lav¬ 
ishly decorated street along the entire route. 
Three artistic triumphal arches rear their grace¬ 
ful proportions above the mass of banners, flags 
and flowers, on which are inscribed the words: 
“Homage of the Calle Major to the Eucharistic 
Jesus.” The stands and balconies along this thor- 


Spain. 


ioi 


oughfare are crowded with ladies wearing black 
or white mantillas, the elegant headdress of 
Spanish women. A slight turn to the left, at 
the end of the Calle Major, leads to the Armory 
Square, where the final act of this memorable 
demonstration takes place. The sound of can¬ 
non announces the arrival of the head of the pro¬ 
cession — the salute of Spain to the King of 
Kings expressed in the powerful voice of her ar¬ 
tillery. Around the Royal Palace were hung 
fifty-five marvelous tapestries, representing 
scenes in the life of Christ and of the Blessed 
Virgin. These tapestries constitute the chief 
treasures of the Spanish Dynasty, are the choic¬ 
est products of the royal factories, and rival the 
celebrated Gobelins. The ladies and children of 
the court appear at eighteen windows of the pal¬ 
ace, which are adorned with the national colors. 
When the cortege arrives at 7.30 P. M. at the 
Palace, the King descends from the balcony, in 
order to walk before the Blessed Sacrament. 
M. Canalejas, the Prime Minister, follows im¬ 
mediately after him. A moment later the King, 
the Queen, the Queen Mother, Maria Cristina, 
and the Royal Infantas appear at the great door 
of the palace, all carrying lighted candles, and 
accompany the Blessed Sacrament to the Throne 
Hall. When the ostensorium was deposited on 
the altar, erected in front of the Throne, one of 
the assembled clergy read the following conse¬ 
cration of the nation to the Holy Eucharist: 



102 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


u O Sovereign Lord of the Blessed Sacrament, 
King of Kings, before Thy throne, the entire 
Kingdom of Spain prostrates itself, a daughter 
very dear to Thy heart. We are Thy people, 
reign Thou over us. May Thy Empire endure 
forever and foreverT 

In a few moments the royal family again ap¬ 
peared at their former places in the balconies, 
and knelt down, holding the lighted candles 
above the railings. 

Dusk had now set in, adding to the beauty of 
the candle light, and especially to that of those 
held by the Queen and her maids, whose cos¬ 
tumes formed a background of pure white. The 
soft light of the many candles flickering from 
the long row of balconies gave the facade of the 
palace the appearance of an immense altar. 
Kneeling on the stone pavement below, with 
nothing between them and the canopy of heaven, 
were the fifty thousand men who had marched 
in the procession singing the Benediction Hymn. 
One hundred thousand more men and women 
were assembled outside the palace grounds, and 
knelt in silent worship. The whole mass of 
5,000 surpliced priests, the 700 white banners of 
the Nocturnal Adoration Society floating over 
the prostrate multitude, and the lighted candles 
held by 10,000 members, who were grouped 
somewhat like a cross, one arm of which divided 
the large square lengthwise, while the other 
formed a semi-circle near the custodia under the 


Spain. 


103 

royal balcony, gave a fairy-like touch to the pic¬ 
ture in the deepening shades of night. 

At last the titanic volume of 100,000 voices 
chanting the Benediction hymn had ceased. A 
moment later, amidst a breathless silence, the 
Cardinal Legate appeared at the royal balcony, 
and held aloft the Sacred Host. Deep-toned 
bells rang out their loud report, soldiers ground¬ 
ed their arms, the militia sounded their trum¬ 
pets, and 200,000 people bowed their heads in 
mute adoration. Immediately after the Cardi¬ 
nal Legate retired, bearing the Blessed Sacra¬ 
ment to the royal palace, accompanied by mem¬ 
bers of the royal family and the prelates present 
This ceremony closed the solemn celebration, 
and the most imposing demonstration of relig¬ 
ious faith and fervor which Catholic Spain had 
ever witnessed passed into history. 

The Escorial. 

One of the most memorable events of our stay 
in Madrid was a trip to the Escorial, the famous 
monastery, cathedral and royal mausoleum, situ¬ 
ated about thirty-five miles from the Spanish 
capital, amongst the Guadarama mountains, at 
an altitude of 3,200 feet above sea-level. “This 
great convent and imperial country seat of St. 
Lawrence of the Escorial is, undoubtedly,” says 
Theophile Gautier, “with the exception of the 
Egyptian pyramids, the largest mass of granite 


8 


104 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

that exists upon the face of the globe; it is called 
in Spain the eighth wonder of the world.” 

It was begun and completed by Philip II., in 
accordance with his father’s will, to construct a 
royal burial place, and in pursuance of a vow 
made at the Battle of St. Quentin in 1557. It is 
the work of the Spanish architect, John Baptist 
of Toledo, assisted by Louis de Escalante and 
Peter of Toledo. More than fifty million dol¬ 
lars were expended in the undertaking. Con¬ 
cerning the magnitude of the task, Philip II. set 
himself to accomplish, an American minister, 
traveler and writer, Henry M. Fields, makes this 
reflection: “He set about its execution with a 
deliberation and largeness of plan which showed 
that he intended to make it the work of his life. 
These were the days when the mines of Peru 
and Mexico poured their treasures into the lap 
of Spain. What use so fit to make of this enor¬ 
mous influx of wealth as to make a temple of 
God, and a monastery for those who should cele¬ 
brate His worship from generation to genera¬ 
tion?” - | 

This gigantic edifice, which was to be the pal¬ 
ace and tomb of so many Spanish monarchs, was 
begun in 1563, and brought to completion in 
1584. It was placed in charge of the monks of 
St. Jerome, who administered the church and 
monastery till 1835; in 1885 the Augustinians 
took charge. The Escorial takes its name from 
a neighboring village which stood at the “esco- 



THE ESCORIAL—SPAIN. 
















Spain. 


io .5 


rial” or dump heap for the “escoria” or dross 
of an iron mine. The plan of the building is 
somewhat in the shape of a gridiron, and is 
thought thus to commemorate the feast of its 
patron saint, St. Lawrence, upon whose feast 
day, the tenth of August, the battle of St. Quen¬ 
tin was fought. The enormous pile of buildings 
of which it is composed occupies a vast quad¬ 
rangle, divided by numerous interior courts, 
which, with the towers at the four corners and 
the lofty church at one side, give it the shape of 
the instrument on which the martyr suffered 
death for the faith of Christ. This idea is every¬ 
where carried out, on walks and doors and win¬ 
dows; and even on the altars and vestments the 
emblem of the saint’s torture is repeated. In 
those acres of granite buildings constructed of 
blocks so large that each of the steps of the grand 
staircase is composed of a single stone, there are 
nearly two thousand rooms, and no less than five 
thousand windows. 

Philip had vowed to build a palace to God, 
and a hut for himself; and the room in which he 
lived and died is one of the smallest and meanest 
in the whole edifice. The floor is of brick and 
the walls are bare, without a single ornament, 
except a picture of the Blessed Virgin. This 
humble apartment of one of the mightiest mon- 
archs of the world’s history adjoins the choir of 
the church, and through an opening in the walls 
he could assist at the celebration of Mass during 


io6 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


his last illness. The four great facades of this 
enormous structure, the western or principal one 
of which is 741 feet long and 72 feet high, while 
the towers at each end rise about 200 feet, are 
undoubtedly imposing, but the general effect is 
depressing due in great measure to the gloomy 
surroundings. On one side savage-looking moun¬ 
tains tower threateningly above the horizon, and 
on the other the eye ranges over a dreary waste 
of sand and rocks resembling the lava beds of 
long-extinct volcanoes. It seems to have been a 
strange freak on the part of the powerful and 
enlightened monarch to have erected this great 
structure—the largest single building, perhaps, 
in the world under one roof—amid such wild 
and forbidding scenes. Its one redeeming fea¬ 
ture is the magnificent church called the Tem¬ 
ple, a beautiful and impressive edifice, and 
worthy to rank among the finest cathedrals in 
Christendom. Its facade is adorned with colos¬ 
sal statues of six of the kings of Juda who took 
part in the construction and rebuilding of the 
Temple of Jerusalem. On each side of the high 
altar which is of pure white marble, and of ma¬ 
jestic elegance, are oratories of black marble in¬ 
tended for the use of royalty, and above them 
are kneeling effigies of Charles V., Philip II., 
and several members of their family. The 
church itself is built in the Basilica style, and its 
vast proportions are majestic and imposing. The 
immense dome is crowned with a massive lan- 


Spain. 


107 


tern and cross, and the portals of the vestibule 
are impressive in their severe simplicity. There 
are more than forty side altars, all richly adorned 
with paintings and sculptures. The interior as 
a whole has a sublimity peculiar to itself. A 
well-known writer says: “When you cross the 
threshold and stand beneath the archway which 
supports the choir, the massive grandeur of this 
gigantic temple strikes you with indefinable awe. 
Plain and unornamented, the huge granite 
blocks of which it is formed seemed as though 
they had been planted by some giant hand, and 
promise to last as many centuries as the colossal 
pyramids of Egypt, a witness to the iron will of 
the monarch at whose behest they were reared. 
Grand, indeed, is this temple, and simple as it is 
grand ; nothing light or trivial mars the fine pro¬ 
portions—so perfect that at first its size is scarce¬ 
ly evident ” 

In the crypt beneath the high altar in a su¬ 
perbly decorated chapel or pantheon whose 
walls are lined with porphyry, jasper and agate, 
repose in gilded coffins of precious marble the 
remains of the Spanish royal line; Charles V., 
Emperor of Germany and King of Spain, and 
his great son, Philip II., were those whose sar¬ 
cophagi interested me most. Here I found my¬ 
self facing the tombs of two of the world’s most 
famous men, whose names are “writ large” in the 
pages of history. And of all of their greatness 
and imperial power, what remains but a handful 



io8 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


of dust and ashes! “Vanity of vanities, and all 
is vanity!” saith the Preacher. In adjoining 
chambers, lit by gilded lamps, perpetually burn¬ 
ing, in sarcophagi of artistic beauty, unrivalled 
anywhere, are interred the remains of the chil¬ 
dren of the deceased monarchs, together with 
their families. One could spend many hours to 
advantage here, studying the finest mortuary 
monuments in existence, and noting the various 
quaint and touching inscriptions thereon re¬ 
corded. 

The Escorial is a treasure house of art and 
learning. The whole civilized world was laid 
under tribute to provide the rarest books and the 
finest manuscripts for its great library, which 
enjoyed at one time the reputation of being the 
best in Europe. Greece, Arabia, and Palestine 
were searched for ancient and priceless parch¬ 
ments of Biblical, classical and historical lore 
with such success that the royal collection was 
without a peer in the world of libraries, the Ara¬ 
bic documents being the most remarkable of the 
manuscripts. The library contained 7,000 en¬ 
gravings and 35,000 volumes, including 4,267 
manuscripts; amongst the last named are 1,886 
Arabic, 582 Greek, and 73 Hebrew manuscripts, 
besides 2,086 in Latin and other languages. 
Amongst its most valuable treasures are a copy 
of the Gospels, illuminated in gold on vellum, 
and the Apocalypse of St. John, richly illus¬ 
trated. The books are so arranged that the gilt 


Spain. 109 

edges, instead of the leather backs, are presented 
to the view of the spectator. 

The royal apartments in the Escorial dazzle 
the visitor with the magnificence of their decora¬ 
tions. The almost endless series of halls, suites 
and corridors are lined with the rarest and most 
costly tapestries and paintings. Vast surfaces of 
walls are taken up with great tapestries, depict¬ 
ing all the famous battles engaged in by Charles 
V. and Philip II, covering eighty years of the 
stormiest and most eventful period of European 
history. They are mainly the works of Spanish 
weavers, though the subjects, designed by Tenier, 
were executed in Holland. Their value as works 
of art it would be difficult to overestimate. Al¬ 
though since 1837, many of the great master¬ 
pieces of painting which adorned these apart¬ 
ments have been transferred to the Prado Mu¬ 
seum in Madrid, there still remains a notable 
collection by such world-famed artists as Titian, 
Velaquez,Tintoretto,Teniers, Guido Reni, Hol¬ 
bein, Goya, Zurburran and others. 

The Escorial stands unique amongst the 
world’s greatest and most notable structures as 
the largest building ever reared in the course of 
ages by one man during his life-time. In this 
achievement, at least, Philip II. ranks pre-emi¬ 
nent in the annals of the race, and whatever de¬ 
fects merciless and at times prejudiced criticism 
may have exposed in his character as a world- 


I IO 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


ruler, it cannot be denied that the Escorial is the 
most sublime Act of Faith ever made by mortal 
man. 


TOLEDO. 

An uninteresting railway journey of two hours 
from Madrid brings the traveller to the ancient 
city of Toledo, the Ciudad Imperial, the “moth¬ 
er of cities,” the “coronet of Spain” and “the 
light of the world,” as it was called by Juan de 
Padilla, the most famous of its sons. There is 
scarcely anything to arrest the eye in the sixty 
miles that separate it from the Spanish capital. 
The country is one dreary expanse of^ rugged, 
flint-like tableland, at a considerable elevation 
above the sea, and seems poorly adapted to sup¬ 
port any considerable population. It is, indeed, 
a matter for wonder how the natives of these 
central provinces of Spain, Castile, Leon, La 
Mancha and Estremadura—manage to wring 
from such forbidding soil the necessaries of life 
This perpetual struggle with mother earth for 
their daily bread has produced amongst these 
highlanders a hardy, vigorous race of men, to 
whose dauntless courage and obstinate persever¬ 
ance the redemption of Spain from the long 
domination of the Moors was principally due. 

Toledo is one of the oldest cities in the world. 
Tradition tells us of its foundation centuries be- 



Spain. 


i 11 


fore the Christian era by the Phoenicians. It 
was afterwards a place of refuge for the Jews 
at the time of the destruction of Jerusalem by 
the Romans. In the early ages of Christianity 
its famous councils were celebrated throughout 
the growing church. The Goths succeeded to 
the Roman domination, and maintained them¬ 
selves for several centuries until their last king, 
Roderick, was slain in battle against the Moors, 
who became the masters of the city and the 
greater part of Spain. From the bold, rocky 
eminence on which Toledo is situated, protected 
on three sides by the Tajo, which here flows 
through a deep gorge, the Moslem was able to 
bid defiance to his enemies for centuries. Here 
occurred the beginning of the struggle that was 
to end in his final expulsion from the land which 
he had so long ruled as conqueror. Toledo was 
the advanced citadel around which Moors and 
Christians emulated one another in feats of 
bravery. When finally captured by the Span¬ 
iards, it was made the capital of the kingdom of 
Castile, and so remained until the rise of Ma¬ 
drid, under Philip II. Since that period it has 
steadily declined in prestige and wealth, until 
today it is a city of the dead, a mere shadow of its 
former splendor. It has the characteristics of a 
Moorish rather than those of a Spanish town. 
The streets are narrow, crooked and confusing to 
the stranger, whilst the houses, tall and gloomy 
in appearance, solid as fortresses in construction, 


I 12 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


have few or no windows on the exterior, but open 
on a patio or internal courtyard. The doors of 
these houses resemble the portals of a fortified 
castle—huge gates of solid oak, overlaid with 
iron and studded with enormous nails. Every¬ 
thing tells of the time when Toledo was a mili¬ 
tant city, when she held the sword in hand for 
generations guarding her altars and her fires, 
and if today the spirit of decay seems to brood 
over her, the story of her heroic past, which is in 
reality an epitome of the history of the whole of 
Spain, invests her with an interest for the serious 
traveller that will endure as long as her own 
rock-bound fortifications. 

Apart from its historic associations, however, 
and with the exception of the Alcazar, the sole 
survivors of its famous glories, Toledo can boast 
of its marvelous cathedral—the seat from time 
immemorial of the Spanish Primate. In this 
grand structure, the summit of the national gen¬ 
ius seems to have been achieved. Few churches 
in Christendom combine more artistic splendors 
and historic memories than this magnificent ca¬ 
thedral. Its site is believed to have been se¬ 
lected by the Apostle of Spain himself, St. James 
the Greater, and the first church was built there 
by Elpidius, his first successor, and dedicated to 
the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin. In the 
year 302 it was destroyed by order of the Em¬ 
peror Diocletian, but was re-erected three years 




Spain. 


i 13 

later, and subsequently rebuilt by command of 
Constantine in the most sumptuous style. 

During the Moorish domination it was turned 
into a mosque, but was returned to Christian 
uses when the city had been reconquered, and in 
the thirteenth century, during the beneficent 
reign of Ferdinand, it took the glorious form 
which it presents to this day, the effort having 
been made to carry it to the highest pinnacle of 
perfection that human art can attain. In the 
course of the last six hundred years nearly two 
hundred artists, many of them of world-wide 
fame, have expended on this cathedral the high¬ 
est achievements of their genius. It has long en¬ 
joyed the reputation of being considered one of 
the greatest of Spain’s many national monu¬ 
ments. 

The approaches to the church are by no means 
impressive. It is surrounded by a mass of old, 
crumbling, unsightly buildings which effectively 
conceal the fine proportions of its exterior. The 
building is an excellent example, especially the 
interior, of a pure vigorous Gothic style, and the 
original thirteenth century plan has been rigidly 
adhered to from beginning to end. Its eight por¬ 
tals are wonders of Gothic sculpture and com¬ 
pare favorably with those of Amiens, Chartres, 
Rouen, and Rheims. 

The visitor is almost overwhelmed with the 
grandeur and vast proportions of this cathedral 
as he walks up the central nave from the main 


114 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

entrance and contemplates the marvelous rich¬ 
ness of its interior. The primate of Spanish 
minsters surpasses all others in the extent and 
value of its treasures—tombs, paintings, rejas, 
sculptures, vestments—although it suffered more 
or less pillage at the time of the Napoleonic in¬ 
vasion. The side chapels, fifty-two in number, 
are extremely rich in their furnishings, and each 
of them would require weeks of study to appre¬ 
ciate them properly. The chapel of the Discen- 
sion attracts multitudes of the faithful by reason 
of the apparition of the Blessed Virgin, who in¬ 
vested with a chasuble brought from heaven on 
this spot, the great St. Ildefonsus, Archbishop 
of Toledo, and a valiant champion of the doc¬ 
trine of the Immaculate Conception. In the 
beautiful chapel of Our Lady of the Sanctuary 
is preserved a much-venerated and very ancient 
statue of the Blessed Virgin, which is arrayed on 
festal occasions with vestments of priceless 
value, one mantle alone being described as con¬ 
taining twenty-one pounds of pearl dust em¬ 
broidered on it, with eighty-five thousand pearls, 
and immense quantities of diamonds, rubies, 
amethysts and other precious stones. 

The marvel of marvels, however, is the capilla 
mayor, or sanctuary, the creation of the great 
cardinal Ximenes, one of the noblest works of art 
in the entire world. Walls and pillars support 
a colossal retablo or screen behind the high altar, 
which scales the vaulted roof, ninety feet high, 


Spain. 


11 5 

in a profuse commingling of sculptured person¬ 
ages, colonnades, statues, canopies fashioned 
after the manner of stalactites, medallions, and 
biblical and historical scenes worked out with a 
vividness that gives the impression of magnifi¬ 
cent tableaux. The long, delicately carved 
mouldings sparkle with brilliancy, every projec¬ 
tion is enriched with exquisitely sculptured 
spangles, which add immeasurably to the gran¬ 
deur of the picture, “a celestial vision” it has 
been called, by the greatest of American travel- 
lecturers. 

The other ornaments of this wonderful sanc¬ 
tuary are in perfect harmony with its unrivalled 
beauty. The choir stalls of solid walnut are 
acknowledged to be the finest specimens of wood 
carving in the world. Gothic art allied to that 
of the Renaissance has produced nothing more 
perfect or more pure. Columns of polished jas¬ 
per, enshrined in capitals of alabaster, crown 
this masterpiece of the wood-worker's art. The 
backs of the lower stalls are covered with carv¬ 
ings representing the campaigns of Ferdinand 
and Isabella, and over the upper seats the gene¬ 
alogy of Christ is sculptured in marble. The 
upper row is the work of two of the most cele¬ 
brated wood carvers of all time, Berruguete and 
Vigarni. They were rivals, and ambitious to 
outdo each other. One carved the seats on one 
side of the choir, whilst his opponent undertook 
those of the opposite side. It would be an ex- 


116 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

tremely difficult task for a connoisseur to decide 
to who mthe palm should be awarded. Their 
combined labors have produced for the admira¬ 
tion of posterity a work so matchless in design 
and faultless in execution as to justify the asser¬ 
tion that it will never be surpassed by human 
hands. 

The exterior of the choir, with its columns of 
jasper and its medallions framing scenes of the 
Old and New Testament, its pointed arches 
worked out in the shape of marble lace, is almost 
as extraordinary as the choir itself. 

Another detail in which Toledo seems to sur¬ 
pass all her sister-cathedrals are her incompar¬ 
able stained-glass windows. Seven hundred and 
fifty of them fill this glorious church with their 
liquid radiance. They are the richest specimens 
of the mediaeval glass workers to be found in 
Spain. All sizes and styles of Gothic decoration 
are represented in this great collection. As the 
sun burst through the immense rose window 
over the main portal it shed a flood of tinted 
splendor along the lofty vaulting of the central 
nave. The eye is fairly dazzled with the bril¬ 
liant effects produced, the windows sparkle in 
their rich coloring, and glow like rubies, emer¬ 
alds, and diamonds in a sea of liquid glory. Our 
modern stained-glass workers may have discov¬ 
ered, as they claim, the secret of the rich color¬ 
ing of their fellow-craftsmen of centuries ago, 
but the windows of Toledo, Chartres, Amiens, 


Spain. 


i 17 


Notre Dame, the Lorenz kirche of Nurnberg 
are unquestionably the finest specimens of the 
art that the world can show. 

One of the most interesting features of the. 
cathedral from the historic point of view is the 
Mozarabic chapel, where Mass in that ancient 
rite is celebrated every morning. The word it¬ 
self means Mixt-Arab, and is the term applied 
to the Christians who lived under Moslem rule. 
Living isolated from their fellow believers, they 
adhered to the old Spanish Gothic ritual. When 
Toledo was recovered from the Moors in the 
eleventh century, the Christian conqueror, Al- 
phonso VI., introduced the Gregorian liturgy 
which was in use amongst the other nations of 
Europe. The learned Archbishop of Toledo, 
Cardinal Ximenes,inspired with the idea of pre¬ 
serving so interesting a memorial of the heroic 
days of Spain, endowed this chapel and provided 
it with a special chapter of canons. Uninformed 
writers have endeavored from the simplicity of 
the service to draw an argument unfavorable to 
the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence af 
Christ in the Mass, but the fact that many Popes 
from the eleventh century onwards after a care¬ 
ful examination of the rite have approved of it 
as being in harmony with the orthodox teaching 
of the Church, deprives the assumption of any 
foundation whatsoever. To the average Catho¬ 
lic the difference does not appear very striking 
In some respects the Mozarabic is simpler than 


i t 8 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

the Gregorian Latin Mass, in others, more ela¬ 
borate; thus, for instance, the Host is divided 
into nine parts to represent the Incarnation, Epi¬ 
phany, Nativity, Circumcision, Passion, Death, 
Redemption, Ascension and Eternal Kingdom. 
The kiss of peace is given before the consecra¬ 
tion, the Credo is recited after the Offertory. 

The Gothic cloisters lined with magnificent 
frescoes surround beautiful courts, filled with 
sunshine and flowers. The chapter house and 
sacristies and other attached buildings abound in 
paintings of most remarkable beauty. The chap¬ 
ter house contains portraits of all the archbishops 
of Toledo from the time of St. Eugenius, 103 
A. D., down to the present primate. Many of 
them were eminent for sanctity, learning and 
executive ability. 

In summing up his impressions of the great 
cathedral the writer can do no better than quote 
the words of a distinguished non-Catholic trav¬ 
eler who says: “There is a study in every one of 
its numerous chapels, each of which has a his¬ 
tory, in its altars, its pictures, and its tombs, for 
every Spanish cathedral is a kind of Westminster 
Abbey. We go from one to another, and then 
come back to the vast interior with its five grand 
naves and eighty-four columns, only to find the 
first impressions renewed and increased. It 
comes not merely from its size, but from the ad¬ 
mirable proportions of the different parts, and 
from the elaborate finish which is carried into 



THE CATHEDRAL—TOLEDO, SPAIN 





















Spain. 


i l 9 

every sculptured ornament, and every detail in 
marble or in bronze. It is this combination of 
all in one that makes the consumate and perfect 
beauty of the whole.” 


SEGOVIA—VALIDOLID—BURGOS. 

The tourist traveling north from Madrid is 
agreeably surprised by the excellence of the rail¬ 
way accommodations which are much superior 
to those of the south of Spain. The Paris express, 
which runs daily, is a modern train with up-to- 
date equipment, including a dining car, and 
maintains a fast schedule. The first important 
stopping place along the line was Segovia. This 
city, like Toledo, is superbly situated on a lofty 
elevation, nearly 3 ooo feet above the sea. An 
affluent of the Duero flows along its base. Its his¬ 
tory stretches back to a very remote antiquity, and 
in the days of the Roman Empire it enjoyed 
great fame and prosperity. The towering aque¬ 
duct constructed by Trajan to bring to the city 
the clear waters of the Guadarama is the finest 
Roman work of this kind to be found in all 
Spain. Like so many other towns of the Iberian 
peninsula, it has experienced all varieties of for¬ 
tune since the days of the Moorish domination. 
It once enjoyed the reputaton of being consid¬ 
ered the largest woolen centre in the country, its 
woolen manufacturers employing 30,000 hands. 


0 




120 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Though wool is still the staple article of export, 
the industry is comparatively insignificant. The 
streets, as in Toledo, are narrow and tortuous, 
lined with lofty and generally very ancient 
houses. 

The two principal features of interest to the 
stranger are the Alcazar, or Moorish Castle, 
now more or less a ruin, and the great Gothic 
cathedral. The Alcazar, with its quaint turrets, 
is perched on a lofty crag that rises like the prow 
of a ship above the confluence of two small 
streams and the tiny brook Clamores. Charles 
I. of England lodged in this castle, and feasted 
on the fine trout for which the adjoining streams 
were famous. It is now used by the government 
as a school of artillery. 

The Cathedral is a splendid specimen of the 
florid style of Gothic architecture. It was built 
in the sixteenth century to replace an older one, 
which, says Murray’s handbook, “was destroyed 
in May, 1520, by the Reformers, who com¬ 
menced business by pulling down churches, 
hanging the authorities, plundering the rich, and 
burning houses for the public good.” 

It was begun in 1525 by Juan de Otanon and 
his son, Rodrigo Gil, after the designs of their 
magnificent cathedral at Salamanca, and is said 
to have been the last of the purely Gothic cathe¬ 
drals. Its beauty is enhanced by the peculiarly 
rich color of the stone of which it is built. The 
cupola which crowns its great square tower, was 
originally nearly three hundred and fifty feet 



CATHEDRAL—SEGOVIA, SPAIN 




















Spain. 


I 2 I 


high, but was lowered twenty-two feet for great¬ 
er security from lightning. 

Its cloisters, which are very rich and graceful, 
belonged to the former cathedral, and Juan Car- 
pero performed the extraordinary feat of taking 
them down and putting them up again in exactly 
their original shape. The interior is bright and 
cheerful, and is very striking on account of the 
bold and harmonious designs of the arches and 
the richness and elaborateness of the vaulting. 
Most of the windows are filled with stained glass, 
the coloring of which is very brilliant and effec¬ 
tive. The high altar is enclosed by a very fine 
iron grille, ornamented with gilding and ex¬ 
ceedingly lofty. The retablo or altar screen is 
of vast proportions, and is composed of precious 
marbles of varied and exquisite colors. Another 
fine retablo rises above the altar in the Chapel of 
Piety, and represents the Deposition from the 
Cross—the dead Body of our Lord lying in His 
Mother’s arms, after the fashion so common in 
Italian and German churches, and often found 
in our own. 

The cathedral also contains a number of very 
fine monuments, including the mausoleums of 
several prelates and princes. 

The magnificent aqueduct of Trajan, already 
alluded to, is a stupendous work of engineering, 
with 160 arches in double tiers, three of which 
are one hundred feet high. It is in an excellent 
state of preservation, and arouses the admira¬ 
tion of every visitor to Segovia. 



122 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

Validolid, the next town of importance north 
of Madrid, is a city of 75,000 inhabitants. It 
was for a time the capital of Spain and the seat 
of a university. Columbus ended his days here 
in poverty and neglect, and the house where he 
breathed his last is pointed out to the stranger, 
as is also the residence of Cervantes, the im¬ 
mortal creator of Don Quixote, who first saw 
the light of day in Validolid. 

Two foreign institutions, the English and 
Scotch colleges, founded here three hundred 
years ago, and still in a flourishing condition, 
recall to the student of history the dark and bit¬ 
ter days of religious persecution and intolerance 
which prevailed in the British Isles after their 
separation from the Catholic Church. So deter¬ 
mined were the efforts of Elizabeth, theTilegiti- 
ma-te daughter of Henry VIII., to stamp out 
every vestige of the ancient faith in her domin¬ 
ions that the most rigorous and blood-thirsty 
laws were enacted and executed during her reign 
and those of her successors against every priest 
of the old religion found within the realm. The 
total extinction of Catholicity in England would 
have been the consequence of these severe meas¬ 
ures were it not for the sublime heroism and ex¬ 
alted self-sacrifice of the devoted men who went 
forth from these institutions prepared to face a 
martyr’s death in their noble efforts to keep alive 
the ancient faith of Britain. The English col¬ 
lege owes its foundation to Sir Francis Engle- 
field, who retired to Validolid after the execu- 


Spain. 


123 


tion of Mary Queen of Scots; the Scotch college 
was established in 1627 by a Colonel Semple, 
whose generous endowments secured its future 
usefulness. Although the penal laws decreed 
death to a Catholic priest who ventured to land 
on the shores of England, hundreds of those 
young heroes braved the terrors of the rack, the 
gibbet and the fagot to proclaim the Faith of 
their Fathers on their native soil. Twenty-seven 
of one group alone of the English college suf¬ 
fered martyrdom for their zeal and devotion to 
the cause of Christ. The Irish college at Sala¬ 
manca, founded during the same troublous 
times, has an equally illustrious story to tell. 
Those days of fierce intolerance are gone, let us 
hope, forever, but the existence of these foreign 
colleges on Spanish soil and the lessons they sig 
nify, should not be lost sight of by those who rail 
at the Inquisition as if Spain had a monopoly 
of religious persecution. 

From Validolid to Burgos the railway trav¬ 
erses the historic Castilian plains. They can 
hardly be called beautiful, or rather, their sol¬ 
emn beauty does not commend them to the ma¬ 
jority of travelers. Vast districts, such as the 
Tierra de Campos, are ancient lake beds of great 
fertility, but exceedingly monotonous, because 
of the absence of forests. Others are covered 
with small stony hillocks; others, again, may be 
described as mountainous. Mountain ;ranges 
covered with meagre herbage, bound the hori¬ 
zon, and sombre gorges, enclosed between pre- 


124 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

cipitous walls of rock, lead into them. Vast 
prairie lands, stretching as far as the eye can 
reach, remind one strongly of our own western 
plains—not a tree to be seen anywhere. The 
Spanish government promulgated a law a cen¬ 
tury ago enjoining the peasantry to plant at least 
five trees The law has since remained a dead 
letter, for the inhabitants, instead of planting, 
cut down the few trees that still remained. Their 
prejudice against them is based on the curious 
reason that their leaves give shelter to birds that 
ravage the cornfields. -Small birds, nightingales 
alone excepted, are hunted mercilessly, and a 
proverb says that “swallows crossing the Castiles 
must carry their provisions with them.” The 
houses of the peasantry, built of mud and peb¬ 
bles, are of the same color as the soil, the walled 
towns are easily confounded with the rocky land¬ 
scape, and even in the midst of cultivated fields 
one may imagine himself in a desert. Huge 
bridges span river beds, though for more than 
half the year they contain not a single drop of 
water. 

Hot and dusty after the long ride across the 
plains, we finally, in the late afternoon, reached 
the terminus of our journey—Burgos—famed 
for its surpassing cathedral, and renowned as the 
home and birthplace of the Cid, the national 
hero. To our pleasant surprise, we found the 
ancient city en fete, and animated scenes were to 
be witnessed on every hand. Upon inquiry, we 
learned that the great fiesta—that of Sts. Peter 



Spain. 


125 


and Paul, a national holiday throughout Spain— 
was being celebrated. Throngs of people 
dressed in their finest attire filled the main streets 
of the city and the beautiful park that skirted 
the river, whilst in the centre of the principal 
thoroughfare was ranged a long line of booths, 
tastefully decorated with bunting and evergreens 
and containing a profuse variety of fruits, cool¬ 
ing drinks, fancy articles, household necessities 
and the like. Bands of music played stirring 
airs, which contributed in great measure to the 
general merriment. As, unlike most visitors 
from foreign parts, it was my good fortune to be 
in the citv at a time when it shakes off the leth- 
argy of its languid existence, and its usually de¬ 
serted streets ring with shouts of joy and laugh¬ 
ter, I fancied myself transported back a thousand 
years, when, 

“Within his hall of Burgos the king prepares the feast, 

He makes his preparation for many a noble guest, 

It is a joyful city, it is a gallant day, 

*Tis the Campeador’s wedding, and who will bide away ? 

They have scattered olive branches and rushes in the 
street, 

And the ladies fling down garlands at the Campeadors 
feet, 

With tapestry and broidery their balconies between. 

To do his bridal honor, their walls the burghers screen. 

They lead the bulls before them all covered o x *er with trap¬ 
pings, 

The little boys pursue them with hooting and with clap¬ 
pings, 

The fool with cap and bladder upon his ass goes prancing, 
Mid troops of captive maidens with bells and cymbals 
dancing.” 



126 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

The hotel accommodations in Burgos were the 
poorest we had encountered in the whole of 
Spain. The best house mentioned by the guide¬ 
books we found to be occupied on the ground 
floor by a livery stable. Although somewhat dis¬ 
appointed by the discovery, when the omnibus 
pulled up at the hostelry, we accepted the situa¬ 
tion philosophically, and proceeded to make our¬ 
selves as comfortable as possible. The interior 
appointments were, however, much better than 
external appearances would seem to indicate. 

The great object of attraction that halted our 
steps at Burgos, and that has made it a shrine for 
travelers, is its world-renowned cathedral, built 
700 years ago, of white marble, much discolored 
by time, but considered by all to be one of the 
noblest specimens of Gothic architecture in Eu¬ 
rope. Its twin towers, rising to a height of 262 
feet, terminate in octagonal spires, sculptured in 
open stone-work ornamentation. Unlike most 
of those of the other great cathedrals in France 
and elsewhere, they have been completed from 
foundation to pinnacle, and impart a finish to the 
edifice which, by contrast, is notably lacking in 
the most famous Norman minsters. For light 
and airy gracefulness they are rivalled only by 
the superb double spires of Cologne, for which 
they seemed to have served as a model. The 
splendor of the facade is in keeping with the 
beauty of its twin guardians. It is composed of 
three stories or sections. The first, or ground 



CATHEDRAL—BURGOS. SPAIN 




























Spain. 


12 7 


story, has three ogival entrances, with rectan¬ 
gular openings; the second has a gallery enclosed 
by a pinnacled balustrade, and a rose window as 
delicately carved as a piece of lace. In the up¬ 
per story there are two double-arched windows 
of original style, with eight intercolumnar 
spaces, in each of which there is a statue on a 
pedestal. The whole is finished with a balus¬ 
trade of letters carved in stone and forming the 
inscription, “Pulchra es et deocra” (thou art 
beautiful and graceful), in the centre of which 
there is a statue of the Blessed Virgin. 

Magnificent as is the facade, it seems to be 
equaled, if not surpassed, by the gorgeousness of 
the central tower which spans the transcept. Its 
scores of. pinnacles, turrets and statues, its elab¬ 
orateness of carvings and wealth of ornamenta¬ 
tion constitute it a thing of matchless beauty, a 
joy and charm forever. When Philip II., the 
builder of the Escorial, first beheld it, he de¬ 
clared in his enthusiasm that it was the work of 
angels, not of men. Of it Nathaniel Armstrong 
Wells, in his “Picturesque Antiquities of Spain,” 
says: 

“In this design are displayed infinite talent 
and imagination. Taken by itself, the tower is 
both externally and internally admirable from 
the elegance of its form and the richness of its 
details.” 

As to the interior of this last of Spain’s glori¬ 
ous cathedrals that we have visited, the writer 


128 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


feels that no words of description can do it jus¬ 
tice. Decorative art seems to have reached its 
highest expression. The profusion of ornamen¬ 
tation appears without limit, and to the specta¬ 
tor simply bewildering. No clearer idea of its 
magnificence can be given than to state, after a 
calm mental survey of previous similar impres¬ 
sions gathered elsewhere, that for richness and 
variety of decorations, carvings in wood, stone, 
and bronze, perfect proportions, and beauty of 
design, Burgos stands without a peer amongst 
Spanish churches*. The Condestable chapel 
like the central tower with which it vies in gor¬ 
geousness, is duplicated nowhere else in the 
world. A wonderful land, truly^this Espana, 
la heroica, whose sublime faith has dotted her 
surface all over with these marvelous achieve¬ 
ments of architectural genius which bespeak her 
love for the noble, thebeautiful and the true. No 
other country on earth possesses so many of 
these peerless creations in stone, which raise the 
mind of the beholder to the heights of the sub¬ 
lime. No matter how deep-rooted the prepos¬ 
sessions of the stranger who lands on her shores, 
she almost completely disarms him before leav¬ 
ing her confines by the magnificent appeal she 
makes to all that is highest and noblest in his 
being. 

Theophile Gautier, in his travels in Spain, 
thus sums up his impressions of this glorious Ca¬ 
thedral : “On raising your head you see a kind of 


Spain. 


129 


dome, formed by the tower, of which we have al¬ 
ready spoken; it is a gulf of sculptures, arabes¬ 
ques, statues, little columns, ribs, lancets, and 
pendentives, enough to give you a vertigo. If you 
looked at it for two years, you would not see it 
all. It is as gigantic as a pyramid, and as delicate 
as a woman’s ear-ring, and you cannot under¬ 
stand how such a piece of filagree work has re¬ 
mained suspended in the air for so many cen¬ 
turies. What kind of men were those who made 
these marvelous buildings, whose splendours not 
even fairy palaces can surpass? Is the race ex¬ 
tinct? And, we, who are always boasting of our 
civilization, are we not decrepit barbarbians in 
comparison? A deep sadness always oppresses 
my heart when I visit one of these stupendous 
edifices of the past; I am seized with utter dis¬ 
couragement, and my desire is to steal into some 
corner, to place a stone beneath my head, and in 
the immobility of contemplation, to await death, 
which is immobility itself. What is the use of 
working? Why should we tire ourselves? The 
most tremendous human effort will never pro¬ 
duce anything equal to this. Ah! well! even the 
names of these divine artists are forgotten, and to 
find any trace of them, you must ransack the 
dusty archives in the convent!” 

The historical memories of Burgos centre 
around the Cid Campeador, the popular hero of 
the chivalrous age of Spain, whose birthplace 
was not far from the site of the cathedral. He 


130 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

was born in 1040, and died at Wallencia in 1099. 
Eighteenth-century historical critics endeavored 
to prove him a mythical personage, but later 
scientific research has established the fact of his 
existence beyond question. His real name was 
Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, and he owed his famous 
title to the following incident recorded by the 
historian Mariana: “An Arab expedition, headed 
by five kings of the adjoining State, being ob¬ 
served as having passed the mountains of Oca, 
and being occupied in committing depredations 
on Christian territory, Rodrigo instantly took 
the field, recovered all the booty, and made all 
five prisoners, all this being done^by himself and 
his own retainers. He released them after sign¬ 
ing a treaty according to which they agreed to 
pay him an annual tribute. It happened that 
on the occasion of the first payment Rodrigo was 
at Zamora, whither he had accompanied the 
King of Castile, and he had an opportunity of 
receiving the Arab messengers in the presence 
of the court. The messenger addressed him by 
the appellation of Syd or Sid, “Sir,” as they 
handed over the money. Ferdinand, delighted 
with the prowess of his courtier, expressed on 
this occasion the desire that he should retain the 
title of Syd or Cid, by which he has ever since 
been known.” 

In discussions concerning the Cid, it must be 
borne in mind that he possessed a dual person¬ 
ality—the Cid of history and the Cid of tradi- 



INTERIOR CATHEDRAL—BURGOS, SPAIN 



















































































































Spain. 


T 3 T 

tion and romance. Historians paint him as a 
freefooter, an unprincipled adventurer who bat¬ 
tled with equal vigor against Christians and 
Moors; who, to further his own ends, would as 
soon destrov a Christian church as a Moslem tern- 
pie; who plundered and slew as much for his 
own gain as for any patriotic motives. It must 
be remembered, however, that the alleged facts 
which discredit him have reached us through 
hostile Arab historians, and that to do him full 
justice he should be judged according to the pre¬ 
vailing national standards of his day. Vastly 
different indeed is the Cid of romance, legend, 
and ballad, wherein he is pictured as the tender, 
loving, husband and father; the gentle, coura¬ 
geous soldier—the “Campeador,” the champion, 
the “Cid’s scourge upon the Moors;” he is the 
noble, generous conqueror, unswervingly loyal 
to his country and his king, the man whose name 
has kindled the fires of the highest patriotism in 
the breasts of his countrymen in all subsequent 
ages of Spanish history.”* He stands pre-eminent 
as the central figure in the long struggle of 
Christian Spain against her Moslem invaders. A 
famous Spanish epic is devoted to an account of 
his historic exploits, which constitutes the oldest 
monument of Spanish literature, and has in¬ 
spired numberless other literary efforts includ¬ 
ing the immortal tragedy of Corneille. The bal¬ 
lads sung throughout Spain by the masses of to¬ 
day glorifv some feat of arms, some extraordi- 


* Heroic Spain. 




I 3 2 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


nary act of bravery, or recite some minor inci¬ 
dent in the life of the Cid Campeador, such as 
his wedding, already described in preceding 
pages, his exile and his death. They have been 
frequently translated into English verse, or in¬ 
spired the Muse of English poets, amongst them 
Mrs. Hemans, who thus describes the banish¬ 
ment of the Cid: 

“With sixty knights in his gallant train, 

Went forth the Campeador of Spain; 

For wild sierras and plains afar 
He left the land of his own Bivar. 

To march o’er flel d and to watehjn tent, 

From his home in good Castile he w r ent; 

To the wasting siege and the battle’s van, 

For the noble Cid was a banished man. 

Through his olive woods the morn breeze played, 

And his native streams w r ild music made, 

And clear in the sunshine his vineyards lay 
When for march and combat he took his way. 

With a thoughtful spirit his way he took, 

And he turned his steed for a parting look; 

For a parting look at his own fair tower, 

Oh! the exile’s heart has weary power. 

The pennons were spread and the band arrayed. 

But the Cid at the threshold a moment stayed— 
’Twas but a moment; the halls were lone, 

And the gates of his dwelling all open thrown. 

There was not a steed in the empty stall, 

Nor a spear nor a cloak on the naked wall, 

Nor a hawk on the perch, nor a seat at the door, 

Nor the sound of a step on the hollow floor. 


Spain. 


i 33 


Then a dim tear swelled to the warrior’s eye, 

As the voice of his native groves went by; 

And he said, “My foeman their wills have won, 
Now the will of God in all things be done.’ 

But the trumpet blew r with its note of cheer, 

And the winds of the morning swept off the tear, 
And the fields of his glory Jay distant far, 

He is gone from the towers of his own Bivar.” 


In the sacristy of the cathedral is preserved 
an interesting relic of the great national hero, 
which the guide assured us was absolutely au¬ 
thentic—the treasure-chest, or strong-box of the 
Cid. Although more than 800 years old, it is still 
in good condition, and bids fair to last for many 
more centuries. When he died in 1099 at Wal- 
lencia, still called Wallencia del Cid, he was 
dressed in full armor and placed on his famous 
charger Bavieca, and brought to San Pedro de 
Cardena, eight miles from Burgos. To this 
place his wife, Jimena, had retired, and after her 
death was buried beside her husband. His 
trusty steed whose praises are sung in the 
Romance or Epic, was interred under a tree of 
the convent near his master, in accordance with 
his famous injunction: “When you bury Bavieca 
dig his grave deep, for it would be disgraceful 
that he should be devoured by curs who has 
trodden down so much currish flesh of Moors.” 
The Cid’s remains, however, were not to rest un¬ 
disturbed in the quiet precincts of San Pedro. 
After continued removals, they were finally de- 


134 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


posited in a chest in the city hall of Burgos, a 
rather incongruous mausoleum for Spain’s 
greatest hero. 

Regretfully bidding an all-too-hasty farewell 
to the historic city and its never-to-be-forgotten 
cathedral, we resumed our journey to the Nor¬ 
thern frontier. The same desolate scenes that 
met our eyes along the railway to Burgos con¬ 
tinued to present themselves to our view from 
the car window as we sped on hour after hour 
across the treeless, sun-baked Castilian plains. 
Experienced travelers maintain that nowhere 
else in the world, not even in the Egyptian 
deserts, or the vast wastes offioLir Western conti¬ 
nent, can one experience a more powerful sensa¬ 
tion of solitude and utter abandonment than on 
these lofty plateaux of Northern Spain. Every¬ 
thing seems tinged a dull brown color, villages, 
houses, inhabitants, and even the animals of the 
fields. Desolate as the land appears, it is never¬ 
theless carefully cultivated, and yields harvests 
in sufficient quantities at least to support the 
struggling population. The reproach so fre¬ 
quently made, that Spain is a poverty-stricken 
nation, because of the indolence and incapacity 
of its inhabitants, finds little justification when 
it is remembered that three-fourths of its total 
area is composed of these bleak, wind-swept up¬ 
lands, whilst the traditional land of oranges, 
grapes, figs, and other semi-tropical fruits, is 
confined to the narrow strip that skirts the 


Spain. 


i 3 S 


Mediterranean. One cannot withhold his sense 
of admiration for this hardy and chivalrous peo¬ 
ple when he reflects that their age-long struggle 
to free their native land from the yoke of the 
Moslem, is surpassed only by their unceasing 
endeavors to wring a sustenance from its inhos¬ 
pitable soil. 

As we approached the Northern frontier, 
however, the scenery became more diversified, 
and as the train mounted the Pyrenees, we be¬ 
held as glorious and romantic mountain vistas 
as can be met with anywhere in Europe and 
America. The Spanish railways crossing these 
rugged mountain ranges are marvels of engi¬ 
neering skill, and have been constructed at 
enormous expense and in the face of herculean 
difficulties. The barrier that separates Spain 
from France and the continent, is not, as is com¬ 
monly imagined, one straight, symetrical moun¬ 
tain rampart, but rather a confused jumble of 
lofty ranges, deep valleys, wild and disconnected 
foothills which enable the tourist to understand 
why, before the advent of the railroad, the coun¬ 
try was so effectively isolated from the rest of 
Europe. After descending the northern slopes 
of the Pyrenees we found ourselves in the fertile 
and picturesque valleys of the Basque provinces 
inhabited by a distinct and mysterious race, who, 
though owing allegiance to Spain, possess their 
own language, customs and political institutions. 
Ethnologically and philologically, they are a 


30 


136 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

standing puzzle to the most learned scientists of 
this twentieth century. Their origin is buried 
in the deepest obscurity, and whilst it is gener¬ 
ally admitted that they are amongst the most 
ancient people on earth, the most careful re¬ 
search has failed to identify them with any of 
the existing races of men Their language like¬ 
wise is as much a mystery as the Basques them¬ 
selves. It is said, with how much truth it can¬ 
not be stated here, that there is a tradition 
amongst them that their language is the identical 
idiom that was spoken by our first parents in the 
Garden of Eden. No one has thus far been 
able to show convincingly any relationship 
which it may bear, in its pure state, to any of the 
existing known tongues. It is almost impossi¬ 
ble of acquisition by one who is not to the 
manor born. 

The Basques are a deeply religious people, 
surpassed by none in their unswerving allegiance 
through many centuries to the Catholic religion. 
No higher eulogy of their virile and unstained 
faith can be accorded them than to state that the 
two foremost champions of Catholicity in the 
sixteenth century, St. Ignatius of Loyola and 
St. Francis Xavier, were members of their race, 
and were born and reared in their beautiful 
valleys. These hardy mountaineers from the 
remotest ages preserved their independence, and 
neither Roman, Goth, nor Saracen, ever suc¬ 
ceeded in gaining a foothold on their native soil. 


Spain. 


i 37 


As the railroad neared the French frontier it 
skirted the coast line of Spain and France which 
at this point is extremely picturesque. One 
scene after another of surpassing loveliness un¬ 
folded itself to the gaze of the tourist, until at 
San Sebastian, the favorite watering place of 
Spanish royalty and aristocracy, the broad At¬ 
lantic came into view. The resort was thronged 
with the usual crowds of summer pleasure 
seekers, and the animated scenes around the 
station when the express from Madrid pulled in 
reminded the traveler from America of similar 
sights in his own Atlantic City. Although the 
temptation to rest here after our long railroad 
journey of eleven hours from Burgos was very 
strong, we nevertheless, pushed on to our desti¬ 
nation—Biarritz on the French coast. At Irun, 
the frontier town, we bade a final farewell to 
Spain—to a land whose memories shall ever re¬ 
main one of the most cherished treasures of our 
lives. Cadiz, Seville, Cordova, Granada, the 
Alhambra. Madrid, Toledo, Burgos—what a 
wealth of historic, artistic and pleasant associa¬ 
tions are clustered around these names in the 
minds of those who have been privileged to see 
them! Hasc olim meminisse juvabit—they reflect 
the glorious past of a nation which has rendered 
more lasting and abundant services to humanity 
than any other single people. Though by reason 
of shifting circumstances, not the least of which 
is her comparatively limited population, Spain 





138 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

no longer enjoys the proud position she once oc¬ 
cupied in the world of affairs, and has been sur¬ 
passed in the race for commercial and political 
supremacy by her more populous and powerful 
rivals in the north, the lustre of her achieve¬ 
ments and the valor of her sons will shine un¬ 
dimmed in history’s pages as long as mankind 
shall reap the fruits of her heroic labors. An 
impregnable bulwark for centuries against the 
Moslem hordes, she saved Northern and West¬ 
ern Europe from the withering blight of Moham¬ 
medanism; from her shoresjailed the immortal 
Columbus across unknown seas to win a new 
world for Christian civilization; her conse¬ 
crated missionaries followed in the track of her 
intrepid explorers, and from the Golden Gate 
to Cape Horn penetrated the vast wildernesses 
of the American continent, evangelizing and 
civilizing the untutored savages who dwelt in 
darkness and in the shadow of death. The apos¬ 
tolic labors and superhuman sacrifices of the 
Spanish sons, of St. Francis, St. Dominic and St. 
Ignatius of Loyola, have born rich fruit in the 
flourishing civilization that prevails in a score 
or more of American republics south of the Rio 
Grande. The only Christian people of the far 
East—the Filipinos—owe their conversion and 
civilization to the arduous labors of Spanish 
missionaries. 

Passing strange, indeed, that a land which has 
conferred such enormous benefitsuponhumanity, 



Spain. 


*39 


and is today in no wise unworthy of its glorious 
past, should be the object of bitter attack on the 
part of hostile and prejudiced critics, who hold 
it up to the contempt of the world as a frightful 
example of a degenerate, superstitious and hope¬ 
lessly unenlightened nation. The writer desires 
in the most emphatic manner possible to enter 
his solemn protest against such a characteriza¬ 
tion as unjust as it is sweeping. Unmindful of 
the warning of Edmund Burke, that you cannot 
indict a whole people, the average tourist, after 
a hasty and superficial survey of a country of 
whose language, history, religion and customs 
he is sublimely ignorant, proceeds at once to 
draw up a formidable catalogue of every weak¬ 
ness or vice common to humanity at large, and 
with judicial calmness ascribes each and all of 
them to the Spanish nation as a political entity. 
It is his profound conviction of the injustice of 
such a course that has impelled the writer to 
record in these pages the delightful impressions 
experienced during his vacation days in Spain, 
and to respond, however feebly, to the simple, 
yet pathetic, appeal made by His Majesty, Al¬ 
fonso XIII., to the thousands of strangers from 
all parts of the world gathered in his capital for 
the solemn festivities of the XXII. International 
Eucharistic Congress: “And finally, gentlemen, 
we have come to say to you—you who have as¬ 
sembled here from various nations—that if your 
arrival has met with a most heartfelt welcome, 



140 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

and your presence amongst us has afforded us the 
greatest happiness, that now, when bidding you 
God-speed and repeating our thanks for your 
coming, we ask you on returning to your homes 
not to forget our beloved Spain; to speak of her 
to your fellow-countrymen, to paint her as she 
is, and as you have seen her—faithful, affable, 
hospitable, not harsh or gloomy, as our enemies 
describe her.” 


SOUTHERN FRANCE 









BIARRITZ—BAYONNE—PAU. 


I T is a delightful sensation for the weary tour¬ 
ist, after the long railroad journey of twelve 
hours from Burgos, to awaken on a perfect 
morning in early July to find himself in beauti¬ 
ful Biarritz, one of the most enchanting of the 
many famous seaside resorts of Southern Eu¬ 
rope. Sixty years ago it was an obscure village 
of a few hundred Gascons, simple folk, with 
nothing to recommend it save its rugged, pic¬ 
turesque location on the Bay of Biscay, whose 
turbulent waters expended their fury on its 
rocky coast. It owes its rise to the proud posi¬ 
tion it occupies today to the Empress Eugenie, 
the wife of Napoleon III. As is well known, 
she was a Spaniard, and by birth the daughter 
of the Count of Montijo, one of the grandees of 
Spain. She was born at Granada, her mother, 
Maria Kirkpatrick Closeburn, being descended 
from a Catholic family of Scotland, who sought 
refuge in Spain after the fall of the Stuarts. After 
spending her childhood in Madrid, Eugenie was 
sent to school in Toulouse and Bristol, and trav¬ 
eled with her mother under the name of the 
Countess of Teba, residing some time in London. 
Her beauty, grace and accomplishments having 
attracted the attention of the future Emperor 
during her residence in England, she became 



144 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

his wife, January 29,1853,and contributed great¬ 
ly to the brilliancy of the imperial court. Amid 
all the pomp and gayety of her exalted position 
and the distractions of Parisian society, however, 
she cherished a deep and abiding affection for 
her native land, and in order to spend her days 
of relaxation within sight of its beloved boun¬ 
daries, she built a magnificent summer villa at 
Biarritz on a picturesque elevation overlooking 
the sea. Here, with unfailing regularity, as long 
as she was Empress of France, she was accus¬ 
tomed to spend some portion of the summer sea¬ 
son. Her example was quickly followed by the 
“beau monde” of Spain, France and England, 
and in a brief period the town sprang from the 
obscurity of a fishing hamlet to the commanding 
position of an international seaside resort. The 
downfall of the Third Empire dimmed in a 
measure the glory of Biarritz, though its for¬ 
tunes were revived a few years later, when Queen 
Victoria of England and her son, the late Ed¬ 
ward VII., chose it as their favorite watering 
place. Its grateful citizens have erected impos¬ 
ing memorials to them in the beautiful park that 
faces the ocean. The season had just opened at 
the time of our arrival, and, although the hotels 
and villas were scenes of animation, the great 
throngs of pleasure-seekers from all parts of Eu¬ 
rope had hardly begun to put in an appearance. 
The town itself is quite modern, with broad, 
well-kept thoroughfares, spacious parks and gar- 


Southern France. 


H5 


dens, in which the palm tree luxuriates, elegant, 
up-to-date shops and department stores, where 
almost every possible want can be supplied. 
The resident population, about ten thousand 
souls, is almost exclusively Catholic, and its spir¬ 
itual needs are amply provided for in the three 
large parish churches conveniently situated in 
different Darts of the town. The finest of these 

j 

is St. Eugenie, an imposing Gothic structure of 
solid granite, superbly located on a rocky bluff, 
at whose base the white-capped breakers of the 
Atlantic dissipate themselves in torrents of spray. 
It was Sunday morning when I visited the 
church, and throngs of worshipers were entering 
and leaving the sacred edifice before and after 
the early masses, which were celebrated in al¬ 
most uninterrupted succession. Having read 
and heard so much about the indifference to re¬ 
ligion of the French people, I was greatly sur¬ 
prised and edified by the concrete evidence I 
beheld of their fidelity to their obligations, as 
members of the Church, to hear Mass on Sun¬ 
days and holidays. My impressions were con¬ 
firmed by an interview with the pastor, an ear¬ 
nest apostolic man, who told me that every one 
of the seven masses said in his church on Sun¬ 
days was well attended, and that he had no rea¬ 
son to complain of the lack of devotion on the 
part of his parishioners. Shortly after leaving 
him, however, I was made painfully aware of 
the bitter campaign carried on against the 


146 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

Church and Christianity by the atheistical clique 
who have seized control of the French govern¬ 
ment. Passing the Church of St. Louis of Gon- 
zaga, a beautiful Gothic stone edifice, compara¬ 
tively new, I sought to enter, but found the doors 
locked and barred. Upon inquiry, I was in¬ 
formed that it, as well as the splendid college 
adjoining, the property of the Dominican Order, 
was confiscated by the authorities, the lawful 
owners expelled, and the buildings put upon the 
market for sale. The boldness of such an act of 
highway robbery and brutal injustice on the part 
of a so-called republic, whose derisive motto, 
“Equality, Liberty, Fraternity,” is printed over 
the portals of every church and public building 
of France, filled me with astonishment and in¬ 
dignation. It is hard for an American citizen of 
a real, not a sham republic, to reconcile such 
high-handed measures with the idea of free in¬ 
stitutions. A government styling itself a repub¬ 
lic, without a written constitution to protect the 
personal and property rights of its citizens, is a 
fraud upon humanity, and nothing more nor less 
than licensed despotism or anarchy. “O, Liber¬ 
ty!” exclaimed Madame Roland on her way to 
the scaffold during the Reign of Terror, “What 
crimes have been committed in thy name!” The 
despoilers of the Church in France today are 
the legitimate heirs of the revolutionists of 1789, 
whodeluged the landwithblood and ruin. Their 
titanic assaults on her ancient Faith met with 


Southern France. 


i47 


disaster, and, if history repeats itself, their pres¬ 
ent attempts will be rewarded with the same re¬ 
sults. 

The seacoast of Biarritz is unsurpassed for 
picturesqueness by that of any other watering 
place in Europe. Huge masses of detached rocks 
jut far out into the ocean, against which the cease¬ 
less billows dash their clouds of snowy spray. 
An iron bridge connects the mainland with the 
most prominent of the rocks, which is called the 
“Rock of the Virgin,” and is crowned with a 
large and beautiful statue of the Mother of God, 
an object-lesson of the faith and piety of the Gas¬ 
cons to the thousands of strangers who flock here 
from all parts of Europe and America. To stand 
upon the rock and to be fanned by the ocean 
breezes, to hear the thunders of the angry break¬ 
ers that dash themselves to pieces around its base, 
is to experience a sensation long to be remem¬ 
bered. The view of the town itself from this 
extraordinary vantage point is enchanting. 
Along the beach the most striking object that 
meets the eye is the Casino, a large and elegant 
building constructed in the Moorish style, and at 
the height of the season the centre of social ani¬ 
mation. Behind it and at a higher elevation are 
the palatial hotels and sumptuous villas of the 
aristocracy separated from one another by beau¬ 
tiful parks and gardens. Numerically and archi¬ 
tecturally, they compare favorably with those of 
America’s most fashionable resort—Newport. 


148 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


The Villa Eugenie, built by Napoleon III. for 
his wife, and the finest structure in Biarritz, 
stands isolated from the town, along the beach, 
and has been for many years untenanted. In its 
forlorn condition it is a melancholy reminder of 
the hapless fortunes of its former distinguished 
occupant, so touchingly portrayed on the occa¬ 
sion of the death of the Prince Imperial by the 
late American poet-priest, J. B. Tabb: 

“In exile, widowed, childless, desolate. 

Thou sittest in the majesty of woe. 

And nations gaze, with shuddering murmurs low, 
Upon the direful trilogy of Fate. 

Hushed are the warring interests of state 
Beneath the pall of sorrow. Foes forego 
Their wonted discord, and with footsteps slow 
And meekened foreheads move compassionate. 

All exiles weave their miseries with thine ! 

All widows turn with sympathy to thee! 

All mothers, desolate, and childless made, 

Mingle their moan with this thine agony! 

And yet, to thee, the royal lot is laid— 

Threefold the cross that measures love divine.” 

A few miles east of Biarritz, on the railway 
that leads to the heart of the Pyrenees, lies the 
ancient and flourishing city of Bayonne, one of 
the most important commercial centres of 
Southern France. It became a place of refuge 
for a considerable colony of Jews from Spain 
and Portugal after their banishment from those 
countries, and in the financial affairs of the city 
they take a leading part. It is a fortress, but 
gaily painted houses, open squares, and fine pro- 


Southern France. 


149 


menades give it the appearance of a modem un¬ 
fortified town. Its principal object of interest to 
the stranger is its splendid cathedral, which domi¬ 
nates the city, and is considered one of the best 
examples of Gothic architecture in that part of 
France. The situation of Bayonne at the bottom 
of the Bay of Biscay, and in the most frequented 
road between France and Spain marks it out as 
a great place of commerce; but owing to the bar 
which closes the mouth of the Adour, its outlet 
to the sea, it has not attained a position amongst 
the great commercial ports of France such as 
might have been expected. Of late years, how¬ 
ever, the Government has taken in hand the work 
of improving the water way by the removal of 
obstructions, and the city looks forward to a 
prosperous future. 

Nestled on the precipitous heights that guard 
the gateway to the Pyrenees stands the pictur¬ 
esquely beautiful city of Pau, famed the world 
over as an ideal winter health resort. The town 
was founded in the eleventh century and has 
been for seven hundred years the capital of 
Bearne, now known as the Department of the 
Lower Pyrenees. A viscount of Bearne built a 
strong castle on the top of a hill, and having 
marked the limits of the ground with stakes or 
“paus,” the future city retained the appellation. 
Its ideal climate, its immunity from the icy 
blasts of the North, its Southern exposure, and 
its cloudless sky have made it a favorite resort 


150 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

for wealthy invalids from all parts of Europe, 
especially English and Scotch, and even health- 
seekers from America may be found among the 
crowds that throng its palatial hotels. The 
view from the latter of the snow-covered peaks 
of the Pyrenees some twenty miles away, with 
the rushing, impetuous mountain river, the 
Gave, in the foreground is one long to be remem¬ 
bered. The town is regularly laid out into 
broad, handsome promenades bordered by luxu¬ 
riant trees, and adorned with numerous parks 
and squares. For the average tourist Pau pos¬ 
sesses more of an historic than a hygienic interest. 
It is famous as the birthplace of Henry of Na¬ 
varre who ascended the throne of France as 
Henry IV. The castle in which he was born 
stands on an eminence overlooking the river, and 
is easily the most conspicuous object in the town. 
His name recalls the long and bloody struggle 
which followed the attempts to introduce the 
principles of the Reformation into France, and to 
wean the Elder Daughter of the Church from 
her traditional allegiance to the Catholic Faith. 
The religious wars which devastated the country 
—there were eight of them in thirty years—were 
remarkable for their bitterness and sanguinary 
character. They inflicted enormous damage on 
the ancient church, surpassed only in extent by 
the frightful excesses of the French Revolution. 
The attempt failed, and the chief of the Protes¬ 
tant party made his abjuration and returned to 



Southern France. 


151 

the Faith of his fathers—he was a descendant of 
St. Louis, King of France—and ascended the 
throne as Henry IV. During the last twelve 
years of his reign, which was abruptly termi¬ 
nated by the dagger of Revaillac, May 14, 1610, 
the country enjoyed a period of genuine religious 
peace. Industry, commerce, and agriculture 
entered upon an era of wonderful prosperity, 
and the nation quickly recovered from the effects 
of its prolonged internecine dissensions. 

As the gallant Henry of Navarre, his memory 
is still cherished by his fellow-countrymen of 
Bearne whoconsideredhim the idol of their race. 
Several statues in his honor have been erected in 
Pau, the finest being the work of the sculptor 
Raggi in the Place Royale. It is of white mar¬ 
ble, and more than life size, and represents him 
standing with his right hand extended as if in 
welcome whilst his left rests on the hilt of his 
sword. Over his shoulder falls the long scarf 
that he was accustomed to wear, whilst at his 
feet lies his well known hat with the traditional 
white plume of Navarre. Upon the pedestal 
are carved scenes from his early life spent in 
these mountains, as well as some of his chief ex¬ 
ploits as king and warrior. In the castle are 
numerous souvenirs of its most distinguished 
tenant, amongst others, the tortoise shell cradle 
in which he was rocked in infancy. The castle 
was pillaged by a revolutionary mob in 1792, but 
was restored under Louis Philippe. 


11 




I $2 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


LOURDES. 

At the Eastern portal of the Pyrenees and at 
the extremity of the picturesque valley stands the 
little city whose name has become a household 
word in every corner of the civilized world, and 
the fame of whose renowned sanctuary of the 
Blessed Virgin is surpassed only by that of Jeru¬ 
salem itself. The situation of Lourdes is ideal. 
A more beautiful spot could scarcely be im¬ 
agined. Nestling among the foothills of the 
Pyrenees, at the junction of the impetuous Gave 
and another mountain stream, built around a 
precipituous rock crowned by an ancient fortress 
at one extremity, and the towering white marble 
Basilica at the other, Lourdes produces an im¬ 
pression on the visitor that will endure as long 
as life itself. Nature has done her utmost to 
surround this favored shrine of the Mother of 
God with beauty and loveliness. No more en¬ 
chanting environment could be desired than that 
which greets the eye on every side. Towering 
mountains clothed in richest verdure, smiling 
valleys through which rushes the Gave with tor¬ 
rential swiftness, quaint streets lined with de¬ 
lightful old houses—all combine to lend a charm 
to Lourdes that is positively irresistible. Trav¬ 
elers and pilgrims from all parts of the world to 
the number of one million annually who make it 




CHURCH OF THE HOLY ROSARY—LOURDES. 















Southern France. 


i 53 


the Mecca of their journeyings unite in pro¬ 
claiming it one of the most beautiful spots on the 
face of the earth. Its normal population is but 
6,000 souls, and in its centuries-old history, it has 
witnessed the invasion and the passing of the 
Roman, the Goth, and the Saracen, and seemed 
destined to continue indefinitely its peaceful, ob¬ 
scure, existence until, a little more than fifty 
years ago, an event occurred which startled the 
world, and has made it ever since a magnet 
which draws vast multitudes in increasing num¬ 
bers from the ends of the earth. As it would be 
impossible within the limits of a single chapter 
to narrate in detail the series of remarkable oc¬ 
curences which have made the little Pyrenean 
town famous for all time, the writer will con¬ 
tent himself with describing briefly the appari¬ 
tions which were the origin of its renown, the 
marvelous cures which have resulted in conse¬ 
quence, and the opinions of the scientific and 
medical world in reference to their supernatural 
character. For the reader who may desire 
fuller information, it may be added that there 
is a large and growing literature upon Lourdes 
at present numbering 200 volumes, which may 
be consulted more at leisure, especially the work 
from which the greater portion of the following 
is taken: (Lourdes. A History of Its Appari¬ 
tions and Cures, by George Bertrin, authorized 
translation by Mrs. Philip Gibbs. London, Ke- 
gan Paul Trench Trubner Co.) 


154 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


The Apparitions. 

On Feb. 11, 1858, three little girls of Lourdes, 
Bernadette Soubirous, her sister Mary, and 
Jeanne Abadie had left their humble homes to 
gather dry twigs for firewood alongside the river 
Gave, in the vicinity of the town. The weather 
was unusually cold, and the supply of wood had 
been exhausted in the poverty-stricken cottage of 
the Soubirous family. Bernadete was fourteen 
years old, but she looked to be scarcely eleven or 
twelve. Having wandered as far as the Massa- 
bielle rocks in front of a Grotto on the mountain 
side, the three children found themselves en¬ 
trapped between the Gave and a canal which 
fed a mill nearby and lost itself in the torrent 
just by the Grotto. Marie and Jeanne were 
barefooted except for their sabots or wooden 
shoes. Jeanne threw her sabots on to the further 
bank; Marie carried hers in her hand, and hold¬ 
ing up their frocks,they crossed the bed of the ca¬ 
nal, which was fairly dry at this time. Thus they 
were able to leave the island. But Bernadette 
was wearing stockings for she suffered from 
asthma and her mother feared for her on account 
of the cold. Wishing to avoid coming into con¬ 
tact with the bitterly cold water of the stream, 
she begged Jeanne, who was the stronger, to 
carry her on her back to the other bank. 


Southern France. 


*55 


“Oh! My goodness, no,” replied the other. 
“You’re a nuisance and a mollycoddle. Stay 
where you are if you don’t want to cross.” 

And without troubling herself any further 
about her companion, she picked up the fagots 
she had gathered and went farther down the 
Gave with Marie. Left alone, Bernadette tried 
to make a dry passage for herself by throwing 
large stones into the water, but all her efforts 
were in vain, and she too was compelled to pad¬ 
dle through the cold water. It was now about 
half past twelve. 

Hardly had the child begun to take off her 
stockings before she heard a loud noise like the 
advent of a storm. She looked all around her 
but not a branch moved on the poplars near the 
river. Thinking, therefore, that she was de¬ 
ceived, she quietly went on taking off her stock¬ 
ings. But almost immediately she heard the 
same noise again. Frightened and apprehen¬ 
sive, she hurriedly rose and searched with her 
eyes to the right and left. Everything was quiet 
by the Gave, but on the other side of the canal, 
several feet from the bank where she stood, a 
wild briar bush, which grew on the outer side to 
the right of the Grotto was being blown about 
as if by a strong wind. At the same moment 
that the child noticed this phenomenon, a golden 
cloud arose from the opening in the rocks which 
the briar was beating with its branches, and a 


156 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

woman appeared above the bush in the cleft 
which formed a kind of natural niche. 

“She was young and beautiful,” said Berna¬ 
dette; “more beautiful than anyone I had ever 
seen. She looked and smiled at me and made a 
sign to come forward without fear. And, in 
deed, I was no longer afraid, but I did not seem 
to know any more where I was.” Instinctively 
the child took her rosary and knelt down. 

“The lady let me pray all alone,” she said, 
“while she herself let her beads pass through her 
fingers without speaking—only at the end of 
each decade she said to me: “Gloria Patri et 
Filio et Spiritui Sancto.” As a matter of fact, 
although the child was too simple to realize it, 
this was the only part of the rosary which the 
“Lady” could rightly say: for the requests made 
in the pater are only for those who do not pos¬ 
sess the fullness of grace; and as for the Ave 
Maria, the Apparition simply could not say it. 
One cannot pray to oneself. On the other hand, 
there was nothing to prevent her mingling her 
heavenly voice with an earthly one, to sing the 
praises of the Blessed Trinity in the very canticle 
of Heaven: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord; glory 
be to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy 
Ghost.” 

“When the Rosary was at an end,” adds Ber¬ 
nadette, “the Lady retired within the rock, and 
the golden cloud disappeared with her.” 


Southern France. 


iS 7 


There was nothing vague or shadowy in the 
divinely beautiful being which had manifested 
itself to the eyes of Bernadette. The latter has 
described it many times with perfect clearness. 

“The Lady looks like a young girl of about 
sixteen or seventeen,” she would say. “She wears 
a white dress; around her waist is a blue ribbon, 
which falls the length of the dress almost to the 
ground. On her head her hair can hardly be 
seen for a white veil which falls behind, over her 
shoulders and below her waist. On her naked 
feet, which are almost hidden by the folds of the 
dress, are golden-colored rosettes. In her right 
hand she holds a rosary, with white beads, and a 
golden chain, which glistens like the rosettes on 
her feet.” 

Bernadette was still on her knees, engrossed 
in the ravishing sight which she had just beheld, 
when Jeanne and Marie returned to the Grotto. 
Seeing her praying at such a time and place, 
they made fun of her, and told her somewhat 
sharply to make haste and return with them. 
They all three made fagots of the wood they had 
gathered, and turned their steps towards the 
town. As they went, Bernadette asked her little 
companions if they had noticed anything ex¬ 
traordinary in the Massabielle Grotto. 

“No, nothing,” they replied. “But, why did 
you ask?” 

“Oh, nothing.” 


158 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

At first she wished to keep her secret; but 
when she was alone with Marie she could not 
resist telling her about all that filled her mind; 
she related her vision, and begged her sister to 
tell no one. The whole day long the image of 
the ideal being whom she had seen was present 
in her mind. When the evening caane, and with 
it family prayers, the remembrance became still 
more acute and still more vivid, and overcome 
by emotion she began to cry. 

“What is the matter, Bernadette?” asked her 
mother. Marie did not give her time to reply, 
but related all that had happened at the Massa- 
bielle rocks. 

“These things are illusions, my child,” said 
Mme. Soubrious seriously. “You must not al¬ 
low such ideas in your mind; put them away, 
and above all, do not return to Massabielle.” 

“We went to bed,” says Bernadette, “but I 
could not sleep. The kind and gracious face of 
the Lady kept coming back to my mind, and it 
was useless to remember what my mother had 
told me; 1 could not believe that I had been 
mistaken.” Such in brief is the story of the first 
apparition. Eighteen different times did the 
same celestial vision present itself to the inno¬ 
cent and simple peasant child, the last apparition 
taking place on the 18th of July, 1858. Mean¬ 
while the news of the unusual happenings spread 
abroad, and thousands of spectators appeared at 
the Grotto whenever Bernadette went there to 


Southern France. 


i59 


behold the apparition and to pray. At times 
there were as many as fifteen to twenty thousand. 

The Spring. 

During the ninth apparition—Thursday, Feb¬ 
ruary 25th—the first signs of the marvelous 
spring appeared, which is thus related by Berna¬ 
dette herself: “When I was praying the Lady 
said to me, ‘Go and drink and wash yourself at 
the spring.’ As I did not see any spring, I went 
towards the Gave. The Lady called me back 
and made me a sign with her fingers to go to the 
left of the Grotto. I obeyed, but I did not see 
any water. Not knowing what to do, I raked up 
the earth, and some appeared. I let it settle a 
little and then I drank some and washed my¬ 
self.” 

The water, which began to well up under her 
fingers, was at first hardly sufficient to make 
more than a muddy puddle. Dr. Dozous, an 
eminent medical man at Lourdes, and a skeptic, 
who was in an excellent position for observing 
this important event, would not leave the Grotto 
of Massabielle without having first carefully ex¬ 
plored all the different parts of the ground. He 
says: “I found that it was dry everywhere except 
where Bernadette had hallowed a little hole with 
her hands, and whence the spring had immedi¬ 
ately flowed.”* 

* Dr. Dozous. The Grotto of Lourdes. Paris. Guerin-Muller, pages 
53 , 54 . 




160 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


The jet of water went on increasing in volume 
the whole day; the next day, when the people 
returned to the spot, it was as big as a finger; a 
few days later it had attained the thickness of a 
child’s arm. Ever since it has been a powerful 
jet of limpid water; and is now the magnificent 
spring which feeds fifteen taps, and easily fills 
the nine piscinas which contain the baths for the 
sick. Its daily capacity is 122,000 litres. This 
extraordinary event disconcerted the incredu¬ 
lous and reanimated the faith of the believers. 

At the eleventh apparition the heavenly voice 
spoke to Bernadette and gave her this message: 
“Go and tell the priests to build me a chapel 
here.” It was during the sixteenth apparition 
that the Lady revealed her name. Bernadette 
remained kneeling in prayer for a long time, 
and when the ravishing vision appeared to her, 
asked her who she was. At first the Lady smiled, 
without replying. Very humbly the child re¬ 
peated her question a second and a third time. 
“The third time,” she said, “the Lady joined her 
hands and raised them to her breast. She looked 
heavenwards, and then slowly separating her 
hands and leaning towards me, she said: “I am 
the Immaculate Conception.” 

The great mystery of the Grotto was at last 
revealed. And the day! the 25th of March, the 
feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin 
Mary—the thrice-blessed day when the Arch- 
angel Gabriel came on the part of the Most High 



Southern France. 161 

to announce the near approach of the Redeemer 
of the world, and to salute as full of grace, that 
is Immaculate, the woman predestined accord¬ 
ing to the promise of old made to our first par¬ 
ents to crush the head of the accursed serpent. 
When the thousands of spectators who had gath¬ 
ered to witness the ecstasy of the favored child 
who was vouchsafed a vision of the glories of 
the Queen of Heaven, heard this astounding rev¬ 
elation, they fell on their knees, and everywhere 
on the banks of the Gave, or the mountain height, 
resounded the well-known invocation: O Mary 
conceived without sin, pray for us who have re¬ 
course to thee. 

It is to be observed here as an evident proof 
of the sincerity of Bernadette, that in her sim¬ 
plicity and lack of theological knowledge, she 
did not understand the literal meaning of the 
words which were addressed to her by the heav¬ 
enly visitor. She knew that the appellation, 
“Immaculate Conception,” referred in a general 
way to the Blessed Virgin, but the real signifi¬ 
cance of the message was a mystery to her. We 
have this on the testimony of an eye-witness, J. B. 
Estrade, author of the Apparitions of Lourdes, 
who, with his sister, visited the seer and closely 
questioned her concerning the marvelous words. 
After repeating the answer of the vision to her 
inquirers, she turned to the sister of M. Estrade, 
and with embarrassed simplicity said to her: 


162 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

What do these words mean, “I am the Immacu¬ 
late Conception?” 

The seventeenth and all but last apparition 
was marked by an extraordinary phenomenon, 
which was witnessed by thousands. It took place 
Wednesday, April 7, 1858. Dr. Dozous thus de¬ 
scribes it: “One day as Bernadette seemed more 
absorbed than usual by the sight of the appari¬ 
tion, I became a witness, as well as all others who 
surrounded her, of the fact which I am about to 
relate. She was on her knees reciting with an¬ 
gelic fervor her rosary, which she had in her left 
hand, whilst in her right she held a large lighted 
blessed candle. At the moment when she began 
to make her usual advance on her knees she 
stopped all of a sudden during this movement 
and placed the lighted candle under the fingers 
of her left hand. The fingers were sufficiently 
apart to allow the flame to pass easily between 
them. A strong draught made the flame burn 
more brightly, but I could see no signs of burn¬ 
ing on the skin. Astonished at this marvelous 
phenomenon, I forbade anyone to approach her, 
and, taking my watch in hand, I watched her 
thus for fifteen minutes. After this interval, 
Bernadette, still in ecstasy, advanced toward the 
upper part of the Grotto, separating her hands 
from each other, which caused the action of the 
flame in the left hand to cease. When she fin¬ 
ished her prayer, and the transformation of her 
countenance had disappeared, she arose and pre- 


Southern France. 


163 

pared to leave the Grotto. I detained her a mo¬ 
ment, and asked her to show me her left hand, 
which I examined with the greatest care. Not 
the slightest trace of a burn could be discovered . 

“Then turning to the person who had taken the 
candle from Bernadette, I asked her to relight 
it and hand it to me. Quickly I placed the flam¬ 
ing candle under the left hand of Bernadette, 
who withdrew it immediately, exclaiming, ‘You 
are burning me.’ I report the fact as I saw it, 
and as a large number of others who were close 
to Bernadette have fully affirmed it.” 

The same marvel happened more than once, 
as is established by unimpeachable evidence. 

The eighteenth and last apparition took place 
July 16 of the same year. Bernadette lived for 
twenty years after, but the heavenly spectacle 
never again met her dazzled and ravished eyes. 
She withdrew into obscurity and was lost in the 
crowd. Every morning she could be seen going 
to the school kept by the Sisters of the Hospital, 
with an old torn satchel containing the stocking 
she was knitting, her spelling book, and a piece 
of black bread for her dinner. At the age of 
twenty-two she embraced the religious life, was 
received into the Mother House of the order at 
Nevers, and lived there until the age of thirty- 
five as the humblest of nuns. She passed away 
April 16, 1879, affirming with her last breath 
the reality of her visions, “I saw her—yes, I saw 
her.” 



164 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


The evidence for the genuineness of the appa¬ 
ritions at Lourdes does not rest, however, on the 
testimony of Bernadette alone, but on the mar¬ 
velous manifestations which followed and which 
continue to be effected to the present moment. 
The child's good faith was incontestable. It was 
never, to tell the truth, much questioned. Those 
who were witnesses of the events or who studied 
them closely, were compelled eventually to rec¬ 
ognize their supernatural reality. No one has 
been able to see this little girl in ecstasy without 
his scepticism being overcome. 

At the mention of the word ecstasy the in¬ 
credulous reader of these lines may be tempted 
to smile and dismiss the question from his mind 
with the certain conviction that the child was a 
victim of her own hallucinations, or, in modern 
scientific phraseology, a neurotic. This expla¬ 
nation, however, presents many difficulties, not 
the least of which is to account for the phenom¬ 
enon of the burning candle, which occurred at 
least twice during the apparitions, and which 
was witnessed by large numbers of spectators. 
The evidence for this fact is overwhelming, and 
its reality established beyond question. It is im¬ 
possible to explain without admitting super¬ 
natural intervention. M. Estrade saw it happen 
towards the end of February, besides Dr. Do- 
zous, on another occasion, already mentioned. 
The fingers of Bernadette were resting in the 
flame of the candle. At the sight of this all those 


Southern France. 165 

present seemed to become dazed, and M. Estrade 
could not help crying out: “Take the candle 
away; you see the child is burning herself.’ 1 

But she was not burning herself, and this is 
the marvel. We must make ourselves clearly 
understood. We do not say that Bernadette did 
not feel the flame; we say that the flame did not 
burn her. A nervous state may cause insensi¬ 
bility, but it can not prevent fire from consum¬ 
ing the flesh with which it comes in contact. Of 
all the experiments made with neurotics—and 
there have been many—no one has ever come 
across a similar occurrence. It is the inexorable 
law of nature that the skin, tissues and bones are 
destroyed by the power of the flames which at¬ 
tack them, whether insensibility is present or not. 
A corpse is insensible, but it cannot resist the 
action of the flame which reduces it to ashes. 

And again, where is the neurotic or victim of 
hallucination who can put his hand over a strong 
flame and keep it there for fifteen minutes with¬ 
out the slightest scorching? To these tangible 
effects which are above Nature’s laws, must be 
added innumerable miraculous cureswhich have 
proved the Divine character of the visions at 
Lourdes. 

The Cures. 

The marvels wrought at the sanctuary of Our 
Lady at Lourdes are a challenge and at the same 
time a defiance flung in the face of the material- 


166 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

istic, pseudo-scientific, and atheistic world of to 
day. They can no longer be laughed out of court, 
or dismissed as fraudulent impositions of super¬ 
stitious minds. The question is no longer about 
the miracles of long ago, when the people were 
surrounded by an alleged atmosphere of incredu¬ 
lity and ignorance, but about the miracles of yes¬ 
terday and today. It is impossible to stifle them 
under historical obscurity, or clothe them in the 
garb of fiction. Zola attempted the latter in his 
novel, “Lourdes,” and made himself ridiculous. 
The witnesses and beneficiaries of the cures ac¬ 
complished at Lourdes are alive and ready to be 
questioned. 

The wonders of Lourdes take place in the full 
noonday of publicity, in the presence of thou¬ 
sands from all parts of the world, and they occur 
by the hundreds annually. Shortly after the 
writer left Lourdes to continue his travels the 
French National Pilgrimage assembled there on 
August 15th, and whilst in his hotel at Paris 
he read in the daily secular papers of 53 cures 
that took place that day—fifteen of them persons 
in the last stages of consumption. The facts 
speak for themselves, and demand an explana¬ 
tion. They cannot be denied or ignored or ridi¬ 
culed. It is consequently impossible henceforth 
to scoff at the extraordinary events which are 
taking place at Massabielle. 



Southern France. 


167 

A French professor of the Medical Faculty in 
Paris wrote some years ago to the New York 1 
Herald as follows: “It is the fashion to turn into 
ridicule everything that happens at the Grotto. 
Perhaps it is easier to scoff than to deny. Why 
not try to solve these problems instead of dismiss¬ 
ing them summarily?” 

Nowadays this is just what is being done. In 
his “Treatise on Suggestion as Applied to The¬ 
rapeutics,” Bernheim, a Jew, the world-famous 
head of the School at Nancy, wrote: “In mak¬ 
ing these observations on authentic cures which 
took place at Lourdes, in trying in the name of 
Science to deprive them of their miraculous 
character; in comparing from this point of view 
alone, religious suggestion with hypnotic sugges¬ 
tion, I have no intention of attacking religious 
faith or of wounding religious sentiment. All 
these observations have been made in all sin¬ 
cerity and controlled by honorable men. The 
facts exist ” 

The learned Jew admits that the sick are really 
cured in crowds at the Grotto, and that the offi¬ 
cial accounts are authentic. His attempts, how¬ 
ever, to deprive them of their miraculous char¬ 
acter in the name of modern Science ended in 
failure, for they are diametrically opposed to the 
conclusions of Science. The universally accept¬ 
ed axiom of Science nowadays is that the Laws 
of Nature are absolutely rigid in their uniform¬ 
ity—that no supposedly miraculous agency can 


12 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


i 68 

interpose in their unvarying operations; that all 
things are governed by this uniform inflexibil¬ 
ity; that the processes that control, for example, 
organic life in its growth, maturity, and decay, 
are everywhere and at all times the same. Mir¬ 
acles, consequently, which would mean a viola¬ 
tion, or at least a suspension of this universally 
invariable law, are an utter impossibility. A rot¬ 
ten apple can never be made sound again, for 
once the tissues which compose it are disinte¬ 
grated, they can never be restored, still less can a 
human lung which is eaten away and the tissues 
almost entirely destroyed by bacilli, ever be rad¬ 
ically and instantly cured by medical science. 
This generally accepted and apparently unas¬ 
sailable theory of modern free thought has met 
with a crushing refutation times without number 
at Lourdes. Hundreds of consumptives have 
been instantaneously healed by the formation of 
new tissues in their lungs, after trustworthy phy¬ 
sicians have certified, at times on oath, that they 
were beyond the power of human aid. The same 
is true of a large number of other organic dis¬ 
eases which modern medicine has given up as 
hopeless, but which find an immediate cure at 
Our Lady’s shrine. One single absolutely incon¬ 
testable miracle overthrows the whole material¬ 
istic-agnostic position, and of such Lourdes fur¬ 
nishes an abundance. For the thorough and 
scientific investigation of these marvels there has 
been established at Lourdes since 1882 a Med- 


Southern France. 


169 


ical Registration Bureau—a bold innovation in 
this “enlightened” twentieth century. For a long 
while the authorities at Lourdes were content 
with the publication of cures on the strength of 
a doctor’s certificate, or an evidence given by 
eye-witnesses. But it was found that sometimes 
the witnesses were incompetent and lacked calm¬ 
ness of judgment. Besides, the number of cures 
increased so rapidly that a new organization be¬ 
came necessary. Hence the medical office was 
started. Its work is to verify the certificates 
which the invalids often bring with them to 
Lourdes. It examines the invalids personally, 
should they so desire. When a cure is an¬ 
nounced—as very often happens during the large 
pilgrimages—it immediately takes charge of the 
case. All doubtful or insignificant cases are thus 
at once put aside, and there is no chance of the 
crowd getting hold of them and distorting or 
exaggerating the facts. Every examination is 
open to anyone, whether friend or foe, who may 
desire to investigate matters closely. Doctors 
are especially welcome, whatever their nation¬ 
ality or belief. Perhaps there is no clinical lab¬ 
oratory in France which is so easy of access and 
so frequented. 

During the fifteen years from 1892 to 1906, 
3,258 physicians, more than 500 of them foreign¬ 
ers, including many Americans, have visited the 
office of registration. Amongst this number were 
three members of the Paris Academy of Medi- 




170 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


cine, one member of the Brussels Academy of 
Medicine, the leading schools in their respective 
countries, one physician to the King of Sweden, 
twenty-six professors of the French faculty, 
fourteen professors of foreign faculties, eight 
from medical schools, forty-eight hospital doc¬ 
tors and surgeons, and seventy-two house sur¬ 
geons. Their names are all inscribed in the reg¬ 
ister and make an imposing and perhaps a unique 
collection. In the year 1911 the number of 
physicians who came to Lourdes for purposes 
of study and scientific investigation reached 
nearly four hundred. The examination and in¬ 
vestigation of the physicians’ certificates which 
the sick bring with them are but a part of the 
work of the registration bureau. It does more. 
If the cured patient remains a few days longer 
at Lourdes he has to report himself morning and 
evening to show that his cure has been a perma¬ 
nent one, and not the result of a passing emotion. 
If the case is an important one, he is kept in touch 
with after returning home. He is asked to re¬ 
turn the following year, and perhaps for several 
years. Those who stay in the registration office 
can watch the long procession of former pa¬ 
tients who have come to show the permanence of 
their cure, and to thank their heavenly benefac- 
toress for the favor shown them. Prominent 
amongst them is a woman whose face is still 
scarred—Madame Rouchel, of Metz. In 1903 
she went to Lourdes, suffering from lupus—a 




Southern France. 


I 7 I 

peculiarly horrible and absolutely incurable 
form of cancer of the face. The disease was fast 
eating away her face, and had made two holes, 
one through the cheek and the other through the 
palate. These two holes had been closed at 
Lourdes instantaneously, in the twinkling of an 
eye. The happy woman is back again. The doc¬ 
tor places his finger where it had easily passed 
through the flesh the year before. The wound 
both felt and seen is closed, as can be readily 
seen. The writer of these pages had the priv¬ 
ilege of an extended interview with Dr. Boissa- 
vie, the famous head of the Medical Office, who 
has spent more than twenty-five years at Lourdes 
engaged in the work of certifying, verifying, and 
classifying the marvelous cures there, which av¬ 
erage from ioo to 200 annually. He is a man of 
strong personality,of profound medical learning, 
joined with deep devotion to the Blessed Virgin. 
He has written half a dozen books on the won¬ 
ders of Lourdes, amongst them a crushing ex¬ 
posure of the infamous Zola, whose caricature of 
the shrine and its marvels reveals in a striking 
manner the dishonesty and unblushing char¬ 
latanry of its author. I engaged him for nearly 
an hour in conversation on the work to which he 
has devoted more than half a lifetime, and could 
not fail to be deeply impressed with the earnest¬ 
ness and sincerity of his convictions. He dis¬ 
cussed with me some of the most remarkable 
cures that took place within his experience, and 


172 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

explained as clearly as possible the pathological 
condition of the patients when brought to him 
for examination. He contended that the asser¬ 
tion that only nervous cases are cured at Lourdes 
was absolutely false, as such cases, put together, 
do not amount to one-twelfth of the cures ob¬ 
tained. The number of cures amounted to 3,353 
up to the year 1904, of which only 265 were 
nervous. 

Tuberculosis alone gives us a much higher fig¬ 
ure, if considered under all its forms. Tubercu¬ 
losis of the lungs, tuberculosis of the bones, intes¬ 
tinal tuberculosis, white swelling, lupus, Pott’s 
disease, hip disease, etc., have given occasion to 
650 registered cures. 

Moreover, without quoting all, there are to 
be found 497 cures from diseases of the digestive 
organs and their appendages, 87 from diseases of 
the circulatory system, of which 51 were cardiac, 
146 from lung diseases, such as bronchitis, pleu¬ 
risy, etc., 47 from diseases of the groin, 464 from 
brain affections, 113 from skin diseases, 164 from 
tumors, 409 from general diseases and divers 
others, of which 133 were rheumatism, 17 cancer 
and 44 open sores. In addition to this long cata¬ 
logue of cures, it must be especially mentioned 
that 48 cases of hopeless blindness were cured as 
instantaneously as the afflicted man of Jericho, 
mentioned in the Gospel, was healed by the 
Saviour, and 31 deaf and dumb recovered with 
the speed of lightning their faculties of speech 


Southern France. 


i 73 


and hearing. This is an incomplete list of the 
diseases of every kind which have been miracu¬ 
lously cured at Lourdes. The term miraculous 
is the only one that can be appropriately used in 
this connection, for it must be remembered that 
these organic diseases, in most cases inevitably 
fatal in their results, were cured instantaneously 
—contrary to Nature’s method, which requires 
time and medical skill. Hanging on the walls of 
the Registration Bureau are scores of photo¬ 
graphs of patients, taken before and after their 
cure, with their names and addresses written on 
them and the name of the disease from which 
they suffered. The first example that attracted 
my attention was the picture of a woman, hollow¬ 
cheeked, hollow-eyed, a living skeleton, and evi¬ 
dently in the last stages of consumption. In the 
next portrait she is shown as she appeared imme¬ 
diately after her cure, and in the third, taken a 
year or more afterwards, she appears in the full 
bloom of health and strength. The writer spent 
more than an hour examining these manifest 
proofs of the supernatural, and he could not help 
exclaiming, “The finger of God is here!” Those 
who are of the opinion that the age of miracles, 
“when the blind saw and the lame walked, and 
the lepers were cleansed,” passed away with 
Christ and His Apostles, have only to come to 
Lourdes and study the evidence here presented 
to realize the contrary. In this hallowed at¬ 
mosphere one comes into almost immediate con- 


174 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

tact with the supernatural, it is all around him, 
it penetrates his very being. In defiance of the 
assertion so confidently proclaimed by the ene¬ 
mies of Revealed Religion, that this mate¬ 
rialistic age of the railway, the steamboat, the 
telegraph, and the telephone has chased the mi¬ 
raculous out of the world of modern enlighten¬ 
ment; lo and behold, it re-enters triumphantly 
and confronts its antagonists on their own chosen 
battlefield! Miracles and railways! “Impossi¬ 
ble!” cries the up-to-date materialist. And yet 
such is the story we have to unfold, and frankly 
submit to the impartial judgment of the candid 
reader. 

On December 17, 1899, Gabriel Gargam, who 
was a railway mail clerk, boarded the fast night 
express to Paris at Bordeaux at 10.30 P. M. The 
postal car in which he traveled with three fel¬ 
low-employees was the last but one on the train. 
They briskly set to work sorting the mail, ac¬ 
cording to their usual custom. Gargam was not 
yet thirty. As a pupil of the Angouleme Gram¬ 
mar School, he had passed his examinations un¬ 
usually well and was now preparing for a higher 
postoffice examinaation, which would entitle him 
to a good post in the service. 

On this particular evening it was bitterly cold, 
and one of his companions went to the stove in 
the postal car to warm himself. Just then the 
train came to a sudden stop. They were not far 
from Angouleme and on the verge of a down 



GABRIEL GARGAM 





























Southern France. 


i 7 S 

grade. The engineer, evidently owing to some 
break in the machinery, could not get the engine 
to move. It was 12.30 A. M. and very dark. To 
make matters worse, the train had just passed a 
curve, so that the one following could not see the 
rear lights. 

Meanwhile, after ten minutes’ interval, a sec¬ 
ond fast express had pulled out of Bordeaux and 
was following the “flyer” closely. “We had 
scarcely stopped,” says Gargam, “when we heard 
a dull, frightening noise, which was nearing us 
at lightning speed. It was the express coming 
at the rate of fifty miles an hour, and bound to 
crush us. 

“It was past midnight. A few seconds had 
hardly elapsed, when our cars were telescoped 
and reduced to splinters. We were thrown upon 
the side of the track like bits of straw. I was 
pitched thirty feet to the bottom of a slope, and 
buried in the snow. One of my companions, who 
was warming himself at the hot stove, just then, 
for it was very cold, disappeared in the midst of 
the coal and the stove. All my recollections ab¬ 
ruptly ceased upon hearing the dreadful noise 
which approached us. The shock was so violent 
as to deprive me of my senses; from that moment 
I was unconscious.” 

Then began a time of agony for him, lasting 
for more than twenty months. Dr. Decressac, an 
Angouleme hospital physician, where he was 
taken after the accident, daily visited the unfor- 


176 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

tunate man. He had wounds all over his head 
and legs, and his collarbone was fractured. The 
fracture and the wounds healed fairly quickly, 
but the terrible shock of the accident caused seri¬ 
ous internal disorders. He was paralyzed from 
the waist downwards, and it was almost impos¬ 
sible for him to take any nourishment. 

The wounded man grew daily worse. For 
the first two weeks he was unable to take any 
food, save a few slices of orange, which he man¬ 
aged to suck. Finally, on January 1, 1900, he 
ate an egg, but was still unable to take sufficient 
nourishment. Eight months after the accident 
he was unable to take any nourishment. Dr. De- 
cressac tried baths as a cure, but the necessary 
jolting and moving only aggravated the patient’s 
condition. A feeding tube was then resorted to. 
This was the cause of such intolerable suffering 
that it could be used only once in twenty-four 
hours. In these conditions, exhaustion reduced 
the unfortunate man to a skeleton. The whole of 
the lower portion of his body was insensible and 
rigid. Although a tall man, he weighed only 
78 pounds. 

His attorney, M. Sevenet, sued the Orleans 
Railway for damages, and Dr. Decressac had* 
been called upon to furnish a report on the state 
of the injured man. His very detailed report is 
dated December 19, 1900. The chief symptoms' 
noted were: Paralysis, with contraction, aesthesia 
of the legs, and also what physicians term 


Southern France. 


177 


exaggeration of the tendon reflexes, especi¬ 
ally in the beginning; epileptoid trembling of 
the foot, very pronounced muscular atrophy of 
the lower limbs and redness with a tendency to 
bed sores in the lower regions of the back. The 
head physician of the hospital concluded in 
these words: “All these symptoms have appeared 
gradually; they constitute an affection of the 
spinal cord called amyotropic lateral sclerosis. 
This diagnosis appeared to me to be the correct 
one, to the exclusion of other disease such as com¬ 
pression of the cord or hysterotraumatism.” 

The learned doctor adds that this condition 
“constituted a permanent infirmity and hardly 
susceptible of improvement, and more likely to 
terminate fatally.” 

He was right; for six months afterwards a 
supplementary report being needed, he had to 
state that Gargam was worse. “The conclusions 
remain the same,” he wrote, “with regard to the 
incurability of the disease and its progressive 
development.” A further complication ensued. 
One day the infirmarian noticed that the extrem¬ 
ities of the feet were black. He thought at 
first that this was due to want of cleanliness and 
rubbed the foot a little. He was much surprised 
to see the skin fall off, and the pus ooze out. 
Gangrene had set in. It was useless to try 
to overcome the disease which was incurable, 
and as the patient did not suffer from it in any 
way, it was deemed sufficient to place a cradle 


178 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

over the feet to prevent them from coming into 
contact with the sheets. 

The suit for damages was wending its weary 
way. The doctors of the Orleans Railway had 
been to see Gargam, and had offered him an an¬ 
nual pension of 3000 francs ($600.00). But the 
civil courts having taken the advice of the doc- 
tors ; ten in all, who had examined Gargam, an¬ 
nounced on Feb. 23, 1901, that the offer made by 
the Company was ridiculous in view of the la¬ 
mentable condition of the patient. They de¬ 
clared that Gargam should not be expected to 
spend his days in a hospital, but that means 
should be provided for him to rent a suit¬ 
able home, to pay for at least two trained nurses, 
and to call in the services of a doctor when neces¬ 
sary. Further, as the company had reduced him 
to the mos: pitiable of states and had madeof him 
a perfect wreck of humanity, with only his intel¬ 
ligence left unimpaired, as the court expressed it, 
the railway authorities were condemned to pay 
him an annual pension of6ooofrancs ($1,200.00) 
for life, and an indemnity of 60,000 francs 
$12,000.00). 

The civil courts recognized the fact that Gar¬ 
gam was an invalid for life. The company’s 
agent at Angouleme went still further. He vis¬ 
ited the invalid, examined the medical reports, 
and then advised the company to offer 12,000 
francs ($2,500) per annum for life, without in¬ 
demnity. He declared that the company would 


Southern France. 


179 


gain thereby, for Gargam was certain to die soon. 
But the company refused and decided to appeal 
to the Bordeaux courts. They soon repented of 
their action, for the court decided in favor of the 
injured man, and added further that the pension 
should be paid in arrears from the day of the 
accident. 

Garganrs future was assured. But was there 
any future for him? Every day he grew worse, 
as Dr. Decressac had declared he would do. He 
was in despair. His life was broken up, and 
there seemed no hope or consolation anywhere. 

It was fifteen years since he had entered a 
church. The chaplain of the college, and the 
hospital chaplain used to visit him, but he made 
no secret of his want of faith. His poor mother, 
who would have so gladly seen him a fervent 
Catholic, did not dare mention the subject. 

One day some one happened to speak in his 
presence of Lourdes, and the wonders that took 
place there. Doubtless it was with the hope that 
he would entertain the idea of going, but he ut¬ 
terly scorned it He well knew that his friends 
and relations were praying for him. One of his 
cousins, especially, a nun at Orthez, prayed for 
him with the whole community. 

God at length answered these appeals. The 
second house surgeon, Dr. Tessier, wished Gar- 
gam to undergo an operation on the vertebrae to 
relieve the compression. He absolutely refused, 
and preferred to leave the hospital. He thought 


180 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


it far better to die among his own people, and to 
wait for death away from that ward where he 
had spent twenty weary months. 

The National Pilgrimage was just about to 
start for Lourdes. Overcome by the insistence 
of his mother and family, he finally consented to 
go, too. He even confessed and received Holy 
Communion, as is the custom of prospective pil¬ 
grims. Three days later he was on the train for 
Lourdes. It was, indeed, a most desperate un¬ 
dertaking. For more than eighteen months he 
had not left his bed at the hospital; the lower 
portion of his body was as good as dead; as for 
the upper part, he fainted and seemed ready to 
die at the least movement. 

A stretcher was made to fit the carriage door¬ 
way, and a mattress was placed on it. A piece 
of wood fixed vertically at one end prevented 
the sheet from touching the gangrenous feet. 
The cesophagian tube was taken to feed the pa¬ 
tient, and thus they started for the depot. Three 
persons accompanied him—his mother, his nurse 
and a friend of the family. 

He reached Lourdes on August 20th, at 7 A. 
M. On his arrival he was immediately taken to 
the Grotto. There he was to receive Holy Com¬ 
munion in the same way as at Angouleme, with 
a tiny particle of the Host. Suddenly, after re¬ 
ceiving Holy Communion, he felt himself trans¬ 
formed by some interior force. He was seized 
with “great longing to pray,” yet no prayer 


Southern France. 


i 8 i 

would pass his lips—sobs were choking him. 
God’s grace and faith had entered his heart, as 
the sun’s rays penetrate a dark room through the 
first inlet they find, filling it with light and life. 

That afternoon at two o'clock he was carried 
to the baths. He was there gently slid off a bare 
plank into the miraculous water. Then only did 
he find strength to pray, and aloud he said the 
accustomed petition: 

“Holy Mother, have pity on us !” 

“Our Lady of Lourdes, cure us!” 

“Health of the Sick, pray for us!” 

But God did not seem to hear. At four o’clock, 
as he lay on his stretcher waiting for the Blessed 
Sacrament to pass, he seemed pale and more ex¬ 
hausted than usual. The fatigue of the journey 
and the emotions of the day had used up all his 
strength. 

Suddenly he lost consciousness. The people 
around were terrified at the sight of his blue 
face. They touched him and found him cold. 

“He must be taken away,” said some one. “It 
would not do to let him die here before all these 
sick people; it would upset them too much.” 
They were on the point of removing him, when 
one of his relatives cried out: “No, let him stay. 
If he dies, I will cover his face, and no one will 
notice.” 

Such was the pitiable condition of Gargam 
as he awaited the approach of the Blessed Sac- 



182 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


rament, carried in solemn procession. The story 
of his cure will be told in the words of an 
eyewitness, whose sincerity, intelligence and 
skepticism cannot be questioned—the Jewish 
correspondent of the great London journal, the 
“Daily Mail,” in whose columns the following 
narrative appeared: 

“The golden ostensorium glittered in the rays 
of a burning sun, when from the lips of a man 
prostrate at my feet on a stretcher, escaped an 
inarticulate crv, and from the mouth of a mother 
near the pallet an exclamation, stifled by sobs, 
“Holy Mother of God, I thank thee!” The man 
stretched on the litter seized the sides of it with 
hands that seemed to be claws, so thin were they, 
and with a continuous movement struggled up 
until he was in a sitting posture. “Help me!” he 
groaned, while two big tears rolled down his 
emaciated cheeks on his beard. “I can walk. I 
feel that I can.” Eager hands helped him to his 
feet, and there he was upright before us, like a 
man risen from the dead, without hat, without 
trousers, having only a night shirt and a dressing 
gown. “Let me walk!” he cried again in a 
strange and hollow voice. 

“Hear him, Blessed Mother,hear him!” sobbed 
his mother. “He has not spoken out loud for 
twenty months.” And in the sight of thousands 
of onlookers, crowded on both sides of the pro¬ 
cession, this human wretch, with legs looking 
like sticks, which were completely covered with 



Southern France. 


183 

sores, made five staggering steps on his dressing 
gown, which had been thrown down as a rug, 
then fell back, exhausted, into arms stretched 
out to receive him. 

“I followed his stretcher to the hospital,yhere 
he was carried, followed by crowds of people. 

“He had not been able to speak for months, 
except at rare intervals, and from his hips to his 
feet his body was absolutely rigid and insensible, 
even to red-hot irons, which doctors had some¬ 
times tried as a remedy. 

“This morning the wounds on his feet, which 
were suppurating yesterday, are almost entirely 
cured. There is a color in his face, and he can 
speak distinctly.” 

In one moment a dying man, exhausted by 
twenty months of suffering and artificial feed¬ 
ing, had recovered sensibility and movement. 

There remained no trace of paralysis; he felt 
his throat enlarge and the pangs of hunger in¬ 
vade his ruined stomach. Life returned with a 
bound to this almost decayed organism, and lit 
up the wretched man’s livid features with a ray 
of light and joy. 

Immediately after the procession Gargam was 
taken to the Medical Office for examination. 
“His entrance to the office.” says Dr. Boissarie, 
“was one of the most touching sights we ever be¬ 
held. Sixty doctors were present, counting hos¬ 
pital surgeons, professors, foreigners; also repre- 


13 


184 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


sentatives from the secular press, believers and 
sceptics.” 

Gargam arrived on his stretcher, wrapped in 
a long dressing gown, followed by his mother, 
nurse, and several ladies from the hospital. He 
stood up in our presence, looking like a ghost. 
The crowd, however, was so great and excited 
that his examination had to be postponed until 
the following day. 

On returning the same night to the hospital, 
he asked for food. For twenty months no solid 
nourishment passed his lips. The feeding tube 
was at hand, but henceforth it was not needed. 

He ate like any ordinary man who possesses 
good health. They gave him soup, oysters, the 
wing of a chicken, and a bunch of grapes. To 
the former invalid it was a royal feast. 

When he returned to the Medical Office the 
next day he found the room packed with people 
impatiently waiting his arrival. All the doctors 
who were at Lourdes at the time had come to see 
a sight which they might never see again. The 
family had telegraphed to M. Sevenet, Gargam’s 
lawyer, who was staying at San Lausan. He 
came as speedy as possible, and arrived in time 
to accompany Gargam and his friends to the 
office. 

Gargam entered without support, and wear¬ 
ing a new suit bought only that morning. Every 
eye was turned on him, as if he were a ghost from 
another world. His feet were examined. There 


Southern France. 


185 

was no more gangrene, the wounds which were 
still raw yesterday and discharging copiously, 
closed before the very eyes of the physicians. 
The legs were in possession of their ordinary 
conditions, but he was extremely thin, and the 
muscles were gone. “Gentlemen,” said Dr. Bois- 
sarie, addressing his colleagues, “we must certify 
that from a medical point of view M. Gargam 
cannot walk, for he has no muscles.” 

And yet Gargam was told to walk, and he 
walked. He answered every question put to him 
by the doctors calmly and apparently without 
wearying. Professor Desplat, of the Medical 
Faculty of Lille, questioned him at length and 
dictated a very detailed report. The discussions 
amongst the physicians was as to the precise na¬ 
ture of the lesion which had done so much harm. 
The head doctor of the Angouleme Hospital be¬ 
lieved it a disease of the spinal cord; the second 
in charge, Dr. Tessier, inclined to the theory of a 
compression of the cord by the vertrebrae, the 
more so as the sick man complained of pain in 
the lumbar region. Several other medical views 
were advanced. 

M. Sevenet then spoke. He had the whole 
case at his fingers’ ends. He told the audience 
that the railway company had never doubted the 
gravity of the wounds inflicted, and that every 
doctor had found the infirmity incurable. The 
civil courts had described the man as a veritable 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


i 86 

human wreck, whose intelligence alone had re¬ 
mained unimpaired. 

Among the sixty doctors present, several gave 
their views, on the profound evil, the origin and 
cause of the frightful disorders which had 
ruined this organism. As usual, they disagreed. 

But one of the chief among them, Dr. M-, 

a hospital surgeon of Paris, impatiently finished 
the discussion by saying: “What is the good, gen¬ 
tlemen, of seeking the seat of the lesion? In 
such a state the lesion is everywhere —the whole 
organism is destroyed ” They all agreed to this, 
and decided that the disease had been incurable, 
and that Gargam would from a pathological 
standpoint have died in due course. 

His strength rapidly returned. In three weeks 
he had gained 22 pounds in weight, and at pres¬ 
ent weighs 165 pounds, a normal weight for a 
man of his age and size. In gratitude to the 
Blessed Virgin for his miraculous cure, he has 
returned for several years to Lourdes, acting as 
brancardier, or stretcher-bearer, for the sick 
who, like himself, came to the hallowed shrine 
seeking relief from their infirmities. He is to¬ 
day enjoying perfect health and has resumed his 
duties in the postal service. 

The sensation caused by this extraordinary 
cure was felt in most of the leading scientific and 
medical circles of Europe. Its authenticity was 
unquestioned, certified as it was by the highest 
legal and medical authorities in France, and the 
effect produced was like that of a bomb thrown 




Southern France. 187 

in the camp of the materialists and other free¬ 
thinkers. In order to escape overwhelming 
defeat, they took refuge in the gratuitous and 
exploded theory of unknown laws to which 
they ascribed the undeniable wonders of 
Lourdes. The atheist dies hard. He will admit 
any theory, however vague and irrational, rather 
than proclaim himself a believer in God. If 
“Laws” are unknown, how can he pronounce 
judgment upon them and their operations? To 
attribute an effect to a cause whose very existence 
is admittedly fictitious, is to talk nonsense. More¬ 
over, if it were true that new and unknown laws 
may one day supersede the laws known to us, the 
present laws would be laws no longer, and conse¬ 
quently Science, which is based on them, would 
be a tissue of absurdities. Reason itself, like¬ 
wise, having so long accepted errors as certain 
truths, could no longer be deemed capable of dis¬ 
tinguishing right from wrong, consequently 
Science and Reason would both have to be sacri¬ 
ficed in order that the absurd theorv of the athe- 

j 

ist be upheld. 

Nature cannot contradict herself; she would 
carry in her bowels the germ of self-destruction 
if any of her laws as yet unknown could reverse 
any known existing law. From this point of 
view there is complete harmony between the past 
and the future—not opposition. When so-called 
new laws are discovered, they are seen to be 
merely new applications of very old laws. Na¬ 
ture is never at war with herself. That which is 


188 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


rotten and decayed, whether in the animal or 
human organism, remains so, and never can be 
restored to its former sound condition by the 
agency of the so-called “unknown” laws of Na¬ 
ture. This is an established fact, and it is quite 
certain that nothing will happen to disprove it, 
however long the world may last. 

As a final answer to the agnostic theory of un¬ 
known laws, it may be asked why it is that these 
laws operate at Lourdes and nowhere else? Why 
are such marvelous effects produced only at the 
shrine of the Blessed Virgin, instead of diffus¬ 
ing themselves in other parts of the world? 
Why are the pilgrims and the sick who visit 
Lourdes in search of extraordinary cures the 
special beneficiaries of these wonderful unknown 
laws, and not their fellow-sufferers at large? If, 
as the materialist assures us, Nature is absolutely 
impartial in the bestowal of her smiles and her 
frowns, how are we to account for this wilful vio¬ 
lation of her own stern and inflexible decrees? 
The only possible reason that could account for 
the Lourdes 7 pilgrims profiting by these pretend¬ 
ed unknown laws, which instantaneously restore 
life to the dying, would be that they alone knew 
the indispensable condition for their action. But 
where could they obtain this extraordinary 
knowledge? They come from all parts of the 
world. They have never met before. How, in 
consequence, could it be maintained that each 
group, nay each separate pilgrim, had the good 


Southern France. 


189 


fortune of unwillingly and instinctively possess¬ 
ing the hidden and precious knowledge? The 
theory of unknown causes breaks down with its 
own weight. It explains nothing. There is 
no natural cause known or unknown which can 
explain the marvelous events taking place at 
Lourdes. All these facts are voices which tell 
of God and His power. They came from Him 
and proclaim His existence. The miracles 
wrought through the intercession of Our Lady 
of Lourdes are.not confined to the famous 
French sanctuary in the Pyrenees, but take place 
at other shrines erected in her honor in different 
parts of the world. Just as the writer was about 
finishing this imperfect and hasty sketch of 
Lourdes his eye fell on the following news item 
in the New York Sun of March 19, 1912: 

“Holding Fenelon Dorscher, 9 years old, by 
the hand, Rev. J. J. McCullough, pastor of the 
Catholic Church of Our Lady of Lourdes, 
Brooklyn, on Sunday, introduced the boy to a 
large congregation, and told the story of his re¬ 
markable cure. The cure, he declared, had 
been effected through the faith and prayers of 
the boy’s mother at the shrine of the grotto of 
Our Lady of Lourdes. 

“The boy lives with his parents in Rockville 
Centre, L. I. In May, 1908, he was playing in 
front of the Twenty-third Regiment Armory 
when he was struck by an automobile. His spine 


190 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

was injured, and later he developed spinal tuber¬ 
culosis. 

“Although given the best of treatment by 
physicians, the boy did not improve. Then 
Mrs. Dorscher made a novena covering nine of 
the special services which are held every third 
Sunday of the month. 

“On every visit to the church the boy had to be 
carried and left in a recumbent position in the 
pew. On the day the novena ended Mrs. Dors¬ 
cher returned after completing her prayers be¬ 
fore the shrine in the grotto, and saw her son 
standing in the aisle. He walked forward to 
meet her. This was the first time he had walked 
since the accident.” 

From the above account it would appear that 
automobiles—the very latest thing save aero¬ 
planes of this materialistic twentieth century 
are no more incompatible with the reality of the 
miraculous than the modern railway. 

The absolute authenticity of the miracles 
wrought at the shrine of Our Lady of Lourdes 
are beyond cavil, and science cannot explain 
them. Indeed, all that science can say is that 
they are beyond the forces known and unknown 
of Nature. If only the honest searcher after 
Truth will carefully read and study the History 
of Lourdes he will find in it visible and tangible 
proofs given by God Himself, of the divine 
nature and origin of that Faith whose Founder 
is Christ, the Son of Mary Immaculate. 


Southern France. 


i 9 i 

The memories of the days spent at Lourdes 
are amongst the most sacred and cherished 
which the writer has ever known. Crowning 
the miraculous grotto there rises a basilica con¬ 
structed of pure white marble which in certain 
respects is surpassed by no other church in the 
world. It was built in obedience to the injunc¬ 
tion of the Blessed Virgin made to Bernadette. 
It is in fact a triple edifice—the upper or prin¬ 
cipal church being a magnificent structure in the 
best style of Gothic architecture, beneath it 
there is another church called the crypt, whilst 
still a third, the superb church of Our Lady of 
the Rosary forms the foundation of the other 
two. The interior of the upper church produces 
an impression upon the mind of the visitor that 
will never be forgotten. The vast expanse of the 
vaulted nave is adorned with a mass of silken 
flags and standards of all nations and all varieties 
of shapes and colors suspended from the ceiling 
—the world’s tribute to Our Lady of Lourdes. 
“Old Glory” occupies an honored place amongst 
these emblems of a world’s homage whilst the 
flags of China and Japan proclaim the devotion 
of the clients of Mary amongst the pagan people 
of the Far East. The interior walls of the basil¬ 
ica are lined from floor to roof with thousands 
of votive tablets of white marble donated by 
grateful individuals in thanksgiving for spiritual 
favors received or miracles obtained through the 
intercession of the Immaculate Virgin of 



192 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

Lourdes. Around the altars of the numerous 
chapels of the great basilica hang thousands of 
gilded hearts, medallions, and similar objects 
placed there to record a cure or proclaim a favor 
received at the hands of the Blessed Virgin. 

The basement church of the Holy Rosary, “A 
quarry of piled up rocks, with its arches high 
as waves, and its wide aisles for the pomp of 
processions” easily rivals the upper church in 
magnificence. It was the last to be built and is 
a splendid specimen of Romanesque architec¬ 
ture. It is semi-circular in shape, and its 
numerous alcoves contain chapels of exquisite 
design. Over the altars of these chapels 
are mosaics representing scenes in the life 
of Christ, executed with such perfection of 
finish that it is only after minute inspection that 
one realizes that they are not frescoes done in oil. 
They are undoubtedly amongst the finest exam¬ 
ples of modern art that can be found anywhere. 

The great triple church has a setting that is in 
perfect harmony with its magnificent propor¬ 
tions. Facing a broad plaza and a beautiful 
well-kept park, provided with shady walks and 
reclining benches the basilica is approached by 
a colossal semi-circular grand stairway 60 feet 
high at the summit, of solid granite and noble 
outlines. During the nationl pilgrimages in 
August, the plaza below is frequently thronged 
with an assemblage of more than 50,000 persons. 
The scenes on occasions like these are thrilling 

o 


Southern France. 


193 


beyond description, especially during the pro¬ 
cessions of the Blessed Sacrament when some¬ 
times twenty or thirty instantaneous cures take 
place before the eyes of the assembled multi¬ 
tudes. 

A spirit of peace, piety and happiness broods 
o’er the beautiful Pyrenean sanctuary that makes 
one long to abide indefinitely within its sacred 
precincts to enjoy the charm of its hallowed asso¬ 
ciations. Reluctantly I bade farewell to 
Lourdes to continue my journey through 
Southern France, the land of the Troubadors. 


TOULOUSE—CARCASONNE—NAR- 

BONNE. 

A few hours’ ride through an undulating, 
picturesque country brings the traveler to Tou¬ 
louse, the ancient city and capital of Langue 
d’Oc, the home of the famous troubadours or 
minnesingers of the Middle Ages. The contrast 
between the treeless, desert-like wastes of 
Northern Spain, and the fertile, thickly wooded 
lands of Southern France cannot but arrest the 
attention of the most careless observer. A fitting 
home, indeed, was this fair land for the wander¬ 
ing minstrels of long ago, whose warm, vivid 
fancy gave birth to a new language, neither 



194 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

French, Italian, nor Spanish—the musical Pro¬ 
vencal—which in spite of the almost universal 
domination of the Northern tongue, the Langue 
d’Oeil, has persisted to this day, and whose latest 
minstrel, the beloved Mistral, the idol of his 
countrymen, was crowned with the Nobel prize 
for Literature a few years ago. Toulouse, for 
centuries the seat of the counts of Toulouse, the 
most famous of whom was Raymond, one of the 
leaders of the First Crusade, and amongst the 
bravest warriors of his age, is one of the largest 
cities of France. To the tourist, it offers little 
atraction save its historical associations and ac¬ 
tive industry. It was, as is well known, the centre 
of the fierce and bloody struggles between the 
upholders of the Albigensian doctrines and their 
opponents. Much has been written by well- 
meaning, but ill-informed travellers on this 
phase of mediaeval history, in which lavish 
eulogy of the Albigenses and unsparing con¬ 
demnation of their antagonists are bestowed 
with a plentiful hand. The facts in the case 
hardly merit so sweeping a judgment. It might 
be surprising to some who are most ardent in 
defense of the Albigensians, thinking them to be 
Christian sectaries unjustly persecuted by other 
Christians, to learn that, properly speaking, they 
can hardly be called a Christian sect at all, as 
their leading tenets have nothing in common 
with Christian teachings. Their belief consisted 
chiefly of Oriental pagan doctrines, with a rem- 


Southern France. 


i95 


nant of Jewish and Mohammedan elements. 
The coexistence of two Gods—one the author 
of good or the spiritual, the other of evil, or the 
material—forms the basis of their doctrinal be¬ 
lief. Of their moral code, their denunciation of 
and aversion to marriage as absolutely wicked, 
and therefore to be prohibited, stands forth as 
their cardinal teaching. Small wonder that this 
latter doctrine, whose effective application 
would lead to the ultimate extermination, not 
only of Christianity, but even of the human race, 
met with most determined resistance from the 
people amongst whom it was introduced, and as 
both sides were relentless in the warfare waged 
against each other, these beautiful, smiling val¬ 
leys of Southern France were the scene of most 
horrible and bloody excesses. 

Aside from these painful, historical mem¬ 
ories, Toulouse possesses for the stranger a few 
notable architectural monuments of the past, 
chief among which is the Church of St. Satur- 
ninus, the first bishop of the city, whose name 
was familiarly contrasted by the people to Ser- 
nin. He went from Rome by the direction of 
Pope Fabian, about the year 245, to preach the 
faith in Gaul, where St. Trophinus, the first 
bishop of Arles, had already gathered a plenti¬ 
ful harvest. He fixed his episcopal see at Tou¬ 
louse, and thus became the first Christian bishop 
of that city. There we$e but few Christians in 
the place; their numbers, however, grew fast 



196 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

after the coming of the saint; his power was felt 
by the spirits of evil, who received the worship 
of the heathen. The oracles sought at their 
shrine were no longer given. The Pagan priests 
confessed that Saturninus had put them under a 
spell, and his power was felt the more because 
he had to pass daily through the Capitol, the 
high place of the heathen worship, on the way 
to his own church. One day a great multitude 
was gathered around the altar, where a bull 
stood ready for sacrifice. A man in the crowd 
pointed out Saturninus, who was passing by, ac¬ 
companied by a priest and two deacons. The 
people fell upon him and would have forced him 
to idolatry, but the holy bishop answered: “I 
know but one God, and to Him I will offer the 
sacrifice of praise. How can I fear gods, who, 
as you say, are afraid of me?” At this he was 
fastened to the bull, which was driven down the 
Capitol. The brains of the saint were scattered 
on the steps. His mangled body was taken up 
and buried by two devout women. 

The remains of the holy bishop were after¬ 
ward interred upon the spot where he died, and 
above them a church was erected under his in¬ 
vocation. The great basilica of St. Sernin was 
erected in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. It 
once formed part of a great abbey, which for 
centuries was one of the wealthiest and most 
influential religious houses of France. 



CHURCH OF ST. SERNIN—TOULOUSE, FRANCE. 























Southern France. 


197 


It is a magnificent specimen of Roman¬ 
esque architecture. The exterior is conspicuous 
for its lofty octagonal towers, and within it has 
dignity and grandeur all its own. It has a long 
and stately nave of eleven bays, unusually nar¬ 
row in proportion to its length and height, 
flanked by double aisles and ending in a semi¬ 
circular apse. Henry James was much im¬ 
pressed with “the seriousness of its clear, gray 
nave,” and “with the very deep and narrow 
choir, visibly intended for intensely earnest 
rites.” 

The apse is adorned with rich sculptures, and 
upon the vault above the high altar is a fresco 
containing a colossal figure of the Saviour, and 
the symbols of the four Evangelists. On the 
walls of the aisles that encircle the sanctuary are 
several ancient Byzantine bas-reliefs in white 
marble, and an exquisite painting of the Madon¬ 
na by Corregio. 

Before the Revolution the great church 
claimed the glorious distinction of possessing the 
bodies of seven of the Apostles, and innumerable 
other relics of priceless value. Its beautiful 
crypt still contains many objects of intense in¬ 
terest, among them the head of St. Thomas 
Aquinas, the greatest of all the Doctors of the 
Church, and perhaps the most prodigious thinker 
the world has ever produced. 

The Cathedral of St. Stephen, facing the prin¬ 
cipal piazza of the city, is a vast building, in an 


198 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

unfinished state, constructed of rough brick, and 
by no means presenting a pleasing picture to the 
eye. If completed along its original lines and 
encased in the usual solid masonry, it would 
doubtless assume the form of an imposing pile, 
and become the most noteworthy monument of 
interest in the city. 

The business section of Toulouse impresses an 
American tourist favorably with it many splen¬ 
did blocks of warehouses and large, broad ave¬ 
nues of commerce, lined with elegant shops and 
first-class hotels; It is well provided with parks 
and squares, museums and public libraries. 

Followingtherail southeasterly from Toulouse, 
the traveler speeds on, mile after mile, until there 
suddenly bursts upon his astonished vision a 
spectacle that almost involuntarily causes him to 
rub his eyes, and ask himself whether he is be- 
holdinga reality or a fantasticcreation of his own 
bewildered imagination. Enthroned in the dis¬ 
tance on a rocky prominence, its bold and tower¬ 
ing walls and numberless turrets bathed in all 
the glory of an early morning sunlight, Carca- 
sonne strikes the gaze of the enraptured Ameri¬ 
can tourist as a city of his dreams, a fantastic 
vision let down from the clouds, a thing not of 
earth, but of fancy. This “distant mediaeval 
silhouette,” as Henry James calls it, is the most 
wonderful and best-preserved specimen of the 
few existing walled cities of Europe. From the 
fifth century down to 725, it was one of the prin- 


Southern France. 


199 


cipal seats of Visigothic power, and here more 
than elsewhere are still preserved Gothic walls 
and Gothic fortifications. It is said, indeed, that 
the whole great northern wall, which looks down 
so majestically from the steep hillside, is practi¬ 
cally unchanged since those days when, at the 
close of the sixth century, it helped to keep back 
the beleaguering armies of the Franks. Res¬ 
torations made in the last century by the famous 
architect Viollet-le-Ducenable the student of his¬ 
tory to frame a complete picture of the appear¬ 
ance of a fortified town of the middle ages. Car- 
casonne was defended by double walls of giant 
construction and enormous thickness, having 
more than fifty towers and protected by a strong 
castle. In the long course of its history it was 
never taken by storm, and its massive fortifica¬ 
tions were impregnable to every assault. It 
stands today a ghost of the past, deserted, save 
by a few hundreds who inhabit its whitewashed 
houses and tread its silent rough-paved streets. 
The new Carcasonne, founded six hundred years 
ago, is separated from the old by a narrow 
stream, and is quite commonplace in comparison. 

As at Toulouse, the most noted historical mem¬ 
ories of Carcasonne are bound up with the Albi- 
gensian heresy, and the city was the scene of fre¬ 
quent blody encounters between the propagators 
of the old Pagan Manichean doctrines and the 
upholders of the existing Catholic belief. The 
attempt to graft Oriental tenets upon the tree 


U 


200 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


of genuine Christianity began almost with the 
birth of that religion, as is evident from the his¬ 
tory of the Gnostics, Manicheans, Paulicians, 
and other early sects, and was always success¬ 
fully resisted. Its recrudescence in the thirteenth 
century met with a like stubborn opposition, and 
with the close of the Albigensian Crusade, ended 
the last serious attempt to revive Paganism on 
the soil of France. 

Narbonne, which lies about an hour’s ride east 
of Carcasonne, . like most of the other cities of 
Southern France, was originally a Roman settle¬ 
ment, many of the soldiers of Caesar’s Tenth Le¬ 
gion having established themselves there after 
the civil war. It was taken by the Saracens in* 
719, and held by them for nearly half a century. 
In the Middle Ages it was one of the most flour¬ 
ishing towns in France, containing more than 
40,000 inhabitants. Of the Roman period, no 
building remains, as they were all pulled down 
and their ruins utilized in the construction of the 
city walls, in which about 500 ancient bas-reliefs, 
friezes and inscriptions were visible, besides 
Saracenic ramparts. The city at present seems 
to be in a more or less stagnant condition, and of¬ 
fers little to detain the tourist within its gates. 

The most notable feature of the place is its 
cathedral, built after the style of the castellated 
fortress churches of earlier dates. Only its choir, 
which is imposing in its beauty, was completed, 
the nave and transcept remaining untouched. 



CARCASSONNE—FRANCE. 













Southern France. 


201 


The walls are plentifully supplied with flying 
buttresses, one above the other, lending an air 
of grace as well as strength to the whole. 


BEZIERS—NIMES—ARLES. 

Beziers, the next important city on the railway 
to Marseilles, owes its origin, like Narbonne, to 
the Romans. An amphitheatre and other remains 
of that era still exist. The town dates from 120 
B. C., but it was named Julia Baeterra, in honor 
of Julius Caesar, who established a colony here. 
Situated on a commanding eminence, its fine ap¬ 
pearance gave rise to the proverb: “Si Deus in 
terris vellet habitare Baeterris,”* but the interior 
of the town is far from attractive. The old walls 
flanked with towers still remain, but the citadel 
has been razed and converted into pleasure 
grounds, in which there is a monument of Riquet, 
the native engineer of the Languedoc canal. 

The chief, and perhaps, the only striking ob¬ 
ject in the city, for the stranger, is the Cathedral 
of St. Nazaire, a Gothic building surmounted 
with towers like a Gothic castle. It is a stately 
and beautiful church of the twelfth century, very 
little ornamented externally, and very strongly 
fortified; even the windows being made impene¬ 
trable by their strong grills of iron. The octag¬ 
onal apse, with its magnificent frieze, supported 


* “If God were on earth He would want to live in Baeterris.” 




202 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


by sixteen columns of colored marble and form- 
ing an impressive background for the imposing 
high altar, with its elaborately carved screen, 
gives an appearance of grandeur and majesty to 
the interior of the church as to stamp it almost 
indelibly on the mind of the beholder. 

Of all the cities of Southern France, none has 
a greater attraction for the lover of classical an¬ 
tiquity than NlMES, for none is richer in monu¬ 
ments of Roman greatness than this pretty man¬ 
ufacturing town of 60,000 inhabitants, the capi¬ 
tal of the Department of Gard, in historic Lan¬ 
guedoc. Its history is wrapped in obscurity, for 
long before the Roman occupation it was one of 
the most important cities of Gaul. Augustus,Ti¬ 
berius, Trajan, Hadrian, Antonninus, and Dio¬ 
cletian contributed to its embellishment. At the 
downfall of the Roman Empire, it shared the 
fate of so many of the great cities of that period, 
being pillaged by the Goths, occupied by the 
Visigoths from 465 to 507, then by the Franks, 
captured by the Saracens, retaken by Charles 
Martel in 737, plundered by the Norman pirates, 
shamefully administered by its feudal lords, un¬ 
til in the fourteenth century it had dwindled 
away to a few hundred inhabitants, and seemed 
doomed to utter extinction. Francis I. under¬ 
took the work of restoration, and by slow de¬ 
grees the city arose from the wreck of the past 
and regained in a measure the prosperity it en¬ 
joyed in the days of its greatest prestige. 


Southern France. 


203 


In the centre of the city stands the most pre¬ 
cious memorial of classic Rome, the Maison 
Carree, so called from its rectangular form. 
Originally it was a small but elegant Corinthian 
temple, dating probably from the reign of An¬ 
toninus Pius, but possibly from the era of Au¬ 
gustus. A real gem of architecture, it is consid¬ 
ered by critics to be the best example of a Pagan 
temple to be found in Europe. It is small in 
proportions—thirty elegant Corinthian columns, 
ten of which are free and form the portico,whilst 
the remainder connect the walls which form the 
sanctuary. It has known strange vicissitudes in 
its long and eventful history, for it has served in 
turn as a Pagan temple, a Christian church, a 
convent, a revolutionary tribunal, a warehouse, 
and even as a stable. It has finally been rescued 
from neglect and vandalism and transformed 
into a museum of antiquity. 

The most remarkable monument of ancient 
Rome, however, that strikes the eye of the tour¬ 
ist in Nimes is the great amphitheatre, which is 
in a better state of preservation than the Colos¬ 
seum in the Eternal City itself. After the down¬ 
fall of the Empire, the Goths converted it into 
a fortress. The Saracens also at the beginning 
of the eighth century intrenched themselves 
within its walls until expelled by Charles Mar¬ 
tel, who himself endeavored to destroy the build¬ 
ing by filling its many passages with wood and 
setting it on fire. For centuries afterwards it 



204 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

served as a habitation for multitudes of people 
who made their homes within its vast corridors, 
until in 1810, by order of Napoleon, the place 
was cleared and more than three hundred houses 
were destroyed, and two thousand dwellers 
driven out. 

The proportions of the amphitheatre are on a 
vast scale, its seating capacity being estimated at 
more than twenty-thousand persons, and so per¬ 
fectly has been the wrok of the construction that 
it bids fair to last as many centuries as have 
elapsed since its completion. Sixty or more 
enormous archways open from the outside cor¬ 
ridors. The blocks of stone of which they are 
built measure more than eighteen feet in length 
and are joined together without cement. 

A few miles from Nimes, the traveler sees one 
of the greatest feats of engineering that the an¬ 
cient Romans have left in Europe—the magnifi¬ 
cent aqueduct known as the Pont du Gard, across 
which the waters of the river Hure were led. 
This bridge spanned the valley of the river Gard 
by a triple row of arches, the first six having a 
span of sixty feet each; above these were twelve 
similar ones; while the upper row was composed 
of thirty-six smaller arches, the whole forming 
one of the finest examples of Roman architec¬ 
ture. In 1740 the engineer Pitot built a road¬ 
way beside the aqueduct and level with its low¬ 
est tier of arches. As a monument of Roman 
genius it is considered superior even to the fa- 



Southern France. 


205 


mous aqueduct at Segovia in Spain, previously 
described in these pages. So solid and skillful 
has been its construction that even at the present 
time, after a lapse of nearly twenty centuries, it 
is well-nigh perfect, and unites the opposite hills 
with blocks of stone so precisely that one conjec¬ 
tures in amazement how they could have been 
placed in position. 

Arles, situated forty-six miles northwest of 
Marseilles, is the last city of note touched by the 
railway in the route to the great Mediterranean 
seaport. Like most of the other cities of South¬ 
ern France, its early history and prosperity were 
bound up with that of Rome. Caesar parceled 
out the land in this neighborhood to his soldiers 
as a reward for their faithful services, and in a 
short time the town took on the appearance of a 
Roman city, with its temples, baths, theatres, am¬ 
phitheatres and market place. The only remains 
of this period still visible to the eye of the tourist 
are those of the great amphitheatre, fairly well 
preserved, which is used at present for bull 
fights. It is larger than that at Nimes, though 
not as impressive. Its capacity is estimated at 
26,000 persons—the entire present population of 
Arles. 

Arles is famous in ecclesiastical annals as the 
seat of one of the earliest Councils of the Chris¬ 
tian Church. It was held in 314, scarcely a year 
after the edict of Constantine at Milan, which 
gave freedom to the Church after three cen- 



2o6 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

turies of fierce and bloody persecution, and abol¬ 
ished Paganism as the religion of the Empire. 
The principal object of its convocation was to 
put an end to the Donatist controversy. Its 
twenty-two canons, dealing with various abuses 
that had crept into ecclesiastical life since the 
persecution of Diocletian, 284-305, are among 
the most important documents of early Church 
legislation. 


MARSEILLES. 

Marseilles, apart from its other attractions, 
possesses for the tourist a special interest by rea¬ 
son of its long and eventful history. It is one of 
the oldest cities in the world—older, perhaps, 
than Rome itself, and surpassed only by Damas¬ 
cus, which enjoys an uninterrupted existence of 
more than four thousand years. The first known 
settlement of what is now the second largest city 
of France, and one of the greatest seaports of the 
world, was made by those ancient rovers of the 
sea, the Phoenicians, about 600 B. C. Later they 
were followed by the Greeks from Phocia, under 
whom Marseilles flourished as a mercantile col¬ 
ony and sent forth colonies that formed settle¬ 
ments along a great part of the Mediterranean 
littoral. In the year 49 B. C., the city having 
espoused the cause of Pompey, was taken by 




Southern France. 


207 


Trebonius, the lieutenant of Julius Caesar, and 
annexed to the republic. After the breaking up 
of the Roman Empire it fell under the dominion 
of the Visigoths, afterwards of the Saracens, and 
finally was absorbed by the French kingdom. 
Christianity was early introduced into Mar¬ 
seilles, though the tradition that Lazarus, whom 
Christ raised from the dead, was its first bishop, 
has been disproved by recent historical criticism. 
The foundation for the legend is said to rest upon 
the supposed fact that in the fourth century a 
bishop named Lazarus presided over the see of 
Marseilles, though the earliest bishop known 
was Orestius, A. D. 314. The city was always 
a great commercial depot, and must have 
been for Provence what Lyons was to Cen¬ 
tral Gaul, a centre from which Christianity ra¬ 
diated in every direction. The exact date when 
the religion of the lowly Nazarene was first pro¬ 
claimed in the great Mediterranean seaport can¬ 
not be definitely fixed, but that it was at a com¬ 
paratively early period is evident from the in¬ 
scriptions on the Christian sarcophagi preserved 
in the local museum, which date back to 273. 

The oldest and most venerable ecclesiastical 
monument that rears its hoary head amid the 
roar and bustle of twentieth-century Marseilles 
is the abbey church of St. Victor. The original 
abbey was founded in 415 by Cassian, and occu¬ 
pies the site where for generations the inhab¬ 
itants of the city buried their dead. It was com- 


208 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


pletely destroyed by the Saracens four hundred 
years afterwards, and rebuilt in the eleventh and 
thirteenth centuries. The abbey enjoyed an enor¬ 
mous prestige in the Middle Ages, and one of the 
great men who guided its destinies, the famous 
William de Grimoard, was elevated to the Pa¬ 
pacy under the title of Urban V. It is a grim, 
massive, gloomy building, resembling a fortress 
or a castle rather than a church, and as I walked 
through the dim, spacious aisles and surveyed 
the rugged stone pillars that support the nave, 
my mind involuntarily reverted to the days when 
this venerable fane was a centre of activity—to 
an age more or less barbarous, when men seemed 
to be engaged for the most part in praying and 
fighting. Men of faith they undoubtedly were, 
as the religious monuments they have left behind 
amply testify; at the same time, it must be ad¬ 
mitted that softness of manners or gentleness of 
speech had not entirely replaced the rough hab¬ 
its of their Pagan ancestors. The Catholic 
Church, the Mother, Teacher and Civilizer of 
Europe, has been engaged for nearly twenty cen¬ 
turies in the work of moulding the nations of the 
world to a genuine Christian pattern, and today 
her task is far from completed; in fact, the work 
before her equals, if it does not surpass, in extent 
the work she has done in the past. Small wonder, 
then, that in an age when printing was unknown, 
books scarce, and extremely costly, she was ham¬ 
pered by difficulties which but set forth in glow- 


Southern France. 


209 


ing relief the magnitude of her heroic labors. 
To bridle the untamed passions of a savage peo¬ 
ple is not the work of years, but of centuries, and 
to this task the Church consecrated all her forces 
until her wild children of earlier centuries be¬ 
came the polished and enlightened nations of 
today. 

At the head of the broad avenue Des Capucins, 
a fine thoroughfare bordered by magnificent 
shade trees, stands the splendid modern Gothic 
edifice dedicated-to the memory of St. Vincent 
de Paul. Amongst comparatively recent ex¬ 
amples of Gothic construction, it deservedly 
ranks amongst the first, and bears a striking re¬ 
semblance to the beautiful Votivkirche of Vien¬ 
na, and the Cathedral of St. Patrick, in New 
York. Its tall, graceful twin spires have been 
much admired, and can be seen from every part 
of the city. The interior of the church is in 
keeping with the exterior, the ornamentation be¬ 
ing rich and elegant. The stained-glass windows, 
of modern make, however, were distressingly 
bad, and gave a jarring note to the exquisite 
harmony of the whole. The church is a 
worthy memorial to one of the greatest saints 
and most heroic figures of the seventeenth 
century. St. Vincent de Paul, whose name 
and fame are known around the world, first 
visited Marseilles in 1605 on a business mat¬ 
ter, and whilst sailing from that city to Nar- 
bonne, was captured by Turkish pirates and con¬ 
veyed a prisoner to Tunis. It happened that 


210 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the master to whom he was sold was a Christian 
renegade from Nice. The saint, by his holiness 
of life and fervent exhortation, won the apostate 
back to the religion of his fathers, and with him 
safely made his escape to Europe. His second 
visit, in 1622, as Chaplain-General, was marked 
by the pious and heroic stratagem which led him 
to take the place of a galley slave. 

The Cathedral situated near the quay is a large 
modern edifice built in Byzantine style, and 
whilst highly praised by some, has been severely 
condemned by others. To one who believes that 
variety is the spice of life, and who is not so 
hopelessly wedded to any particular style of 
architecture as to be unable to perceive merit in 
any other kind, the Marseilles Metropolitan 
Church appears as a dignified, imposing exam¬ 
ple of Oriental church construction, and in keep¬ 
ing with the character of the city which has for 
ages been the great European entreport for the 
commerce of the East. 

On the highest elevation overlooking the Med¬ 
iterranean seaport stands the great Church of 
Notre Dame de la Garde, a magnificent edifice, 
like the Cathedral built in Byzantine style. The 
spot has been noted as a place of pilgrimage 
since 1214. In 1544 a large church was erected 
there; in 1837 a statue of the Madonna was 
blessed there; and in 1864 was begun the erec¬ 
tion of the present church, which has become a 
new sanctuary, daily visited by numerous pil- 



CATHEDRAL—MARSEILLES. 

























Southern France. 


21 I 


grims. Twice a year large bodies of pilgrims 
about to set out for the Holy Land congregate 
around its high altar to invoke the blessing and 
protection of God on their long and perilous 
journey. Catholic faith and generosity^ have 
adorned the interior of this shrine with such 
lavish splendor that it may be safely asserted 
that no church of modern times surpasses it in 
richness and beauty. A glimpse of its interior 
remains almost indelibly impressed on the mem¬ 
ory. The view from the great doorway is inex¬ 
pressibly grand, the blue Mediterranean, with 
its rugged coastline and picturesque islands, 
stretches far away in the distance, whilst the busy 
city, with its broad avenues, lined with luxurious 
shade trees, its imposing public buildings, and 
its spire-crowned churches, lies at one’s feet, ex¬ 
tending in every direction. The handsomest of 
the many fine streets of Marseilles is the Can- 
nabierre, which leads from the Grand Cour to 
the old harbor, and contains excellent shops, 
hotels and coffee houses, including the beautiful 
Cafe Turc, chiefly frequented by Greeks and 
Levantines. The new city is built around the 
port. The quays are the most bustling and most 
interesting part of Marseilles, being constantly 
thronged by crowds of Orientals, Greeks, Ital¬ 
ians, English and French, who are engaged in 
the business of the place. The seaport is in fact 
one of the most cosmopolitan in the world, and 
rivals even that of Gibraltar in this respect. The 


212 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


animation of the city is equalled only by the pic¬ 
turesqueness of its locality. Opposite the mouth 
of the harbor, situated on a rugged islet, stands 
the famous Chateau d’lf, in which were confined 
Mirabeau and other distinguished prisoners. 
The view of this castle at sunset, with the Medi¬ 
terranean as a back-ground from the height of 
Notre Dame de la Garde is one long to be re¬ 
membered. Although the writer found himself 
in Marseilles in mid-summer, the climate was 
delightful, a cool stirring breeze blowing over 
the city. At the same time the cable dispatches 
in the local papers were telling of the numerous 
prostrations from the terrific heat then prevail¬ 
ing in New York and other American cities. 


THE RIVIERA. 

The railroad ride from Marseilles along the 
far-famed Riviera leaves an impression on the 
mind of the tourist that can never be effaced. 
The scenery along the shores of the Mediter¬ 
ranean is without question, the finest of its kind 
in the world. For miles and miles along the 
coast, the rugged Maritime Alps project their 
huge bulk into the sea, and the rare combination 
of mountain and ocean render this enchanted re¬ 
gion unsurpassed for loveliness. The first im¬ 
portant stop along the line is Toulon, where 



Southern France. 


213 


France possesses its greatest naval station in the 
Mediterranean. It is a pretty city of about 100,- 
000 population, abundantly supplied with 
churches, public buildings, fountains, broad 
shady promenades, and other civic adornments. 
Its greatest interest for the tourist, however, is to 
be found in the great naval works, which extend 
over hundreds of acres, inclosing vast buildings, 
enormous floating docks, huge arsenals, and all 
the other equipments of a first-class naval power. 
From thence to Nice, the panorama that is un¬ 
folded before the eye is irresistible, and fasci¬ 
nates the traveler. Beautiful villas, architectur¬ 
ally perfect, of pure white and sky blue, with 
their harmonious red-tiled roofs buried in lux¬ 
urious foliage and nestling at the foot of some 
large mountain or perched along its sides, make 
this, indeed, seem a veritable fairyland. The 
sea along this coast possesses that extraordinary 
blue tint that gives to this delightful region the 
name it so appropriately bears, u le cote d’azur.” 
This part of the Mediterranean seaboard is 
called the French Riviera, to distinguish it from 
that portion further eastward, known as the Ital¬ 
ian Riviera. After five hours of such enchanting 
traveling, we reached Nice, the gay capital of 
this picturesque coast. Its permanent popula¬ 
tion numbers over 100,000, and in the height of 
the season the city counts more than 150,000 in¬ 
habitants within its gates. The private villas of 
the aristocracy of Europe, who gather here in the 


214 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

fall and winter months, the palatial hotels, as 
expensive and luxurious as those of the largest 
capitals of the continent, the broad, magnificent¬ 
ly shaded boulevards, the unrivalled ocean 
drives, with the scenic beauty of the Alps as a 
background, contribute materially to establish 
the claims of Nice as the foremost pleasure re¬ 
sort of the world. The writer has seen some¬ 
thing of our own well-known watering places— 
Newport, Long Branch, Cape May and Atlantic 
City—and it must be admitted that they bear no 
possible comparison with Nice. The season be¬ 
gins in November and ends in May, and for sev¬ 
eral months, in consequence, its magnificent 
promenades and boulevards are thronged with 
the wealth and fashion of Europe and other parts 
of the world, giving the charming city by the sea 
an aspect thoroughly cosmopolitan. The climate 
is semi-tropical, and the luxurious palm, sugges¬ 
tive of the Orient, the lemon, orange and fig 
grow here in profuse abundance. 

Continuing our journey along the beautiful 
coast and passing on the way Villa Franca and 
other noted places, we arrived, after an hour's 
ride by rail, at Monaco, the jewel of the Riviera, 
and unquestionably one of the finest spots on the 
face of Mother Earth. It is a principality not 
more than ten square miles in extent, and ruled 
over by the Prince of Monaco, who until re¬ 
cently governed his dominions as an absolute 
monarch. The town itself is built on a spur of 



Southern France. 


2I 5 


the Maritime Alps, which projects itself boldly 
into the sea, flanked with precipitous cliffs rising 
nearly two hundred feet above the waves. Be¬ 
hind the city and protecting it from the piercing 
winds of winter, loom the rugged mountains, 
their summits crowned with snow and ice for 
many months of the year. The luxuriant semi- 
tropical vegetation called into life by the genial 
rays of the Mediterranean sun, furnishes a con¬ 
trast as striking, perhaps, as can be found any¬ 
where else in the world. The palaces of the 
wealthy, the sumptuous hotels and the Govern¬ 
ment buildings are the equal of any in Europe. 
The inhabitants of this little principality possess 
a privilege shared by no others, perhaps, on the 
face of the globe; they pay no taxes or imposts of 
any kind. The real ruler of Monaco is not the 
Prince, but the Syndicate, a corporation which 
makes all local improvements, defrays all the ex¬ 
penses of government, and pays the Prince a gen¬ 
erous annual allowance in return for the privi¬ 
lege of conducting the famous gambling estab¬ 
lishment of Monte Carlo. 

The famous Cornice road, which has been cut 
from the mountain side along the Riviera from 
Nice to Genoa, is unsurpassed for picturesque 
beauty by any other in the world. It was origi¬ 
nally begun by Napoleon I., who wished to have 
easy access for his conquering armies to the rich 
spoils of Italy, which lay as a conquered prov¬ 
ince at his feet. For travelers of leisure this 


15 


2l6 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


magnificent highway is much to be preferred to 
the railway, which skirts the entire coast, as the 
tourist can survey the wonderful panorama 
spread out as a bounteous repast before his eyes 
with more profit and enjoyment. As time, how¬ 
ever, as well as expense, are very important con¬ 
siderations for the average tourist, the great ma¬ 
jority avail themselves of the train service, which 
in most cases is very satisfactory. 

The charm of Monte Carlo, the magic spell, 
which it seems to cast over all who come within 
its lovely precincts, the writer realized as he pre¬ 
pared to take his departure early on a beautiful 
summer morning. The sun shone brilliantly 
over the placid blue waters of the Mediter¬ 
ranean, lighting up the picturesque city by the 
sea. Tier upon tier on the lofty, rugged moun¬ 
tain side rose the magnificent villas and sumptu¬ 
ous hotels, bathed in a flood of golden sunshine. 
Far above them, beyond the timber line, the bold 
granite-like Maritime Alps rear their naked sum¬ 
mits towards the clear Italian sky. It is almost 
impossible to estimate the vast amount of labor, 
skill, genius and wealth which have been expend¬ 
ed along these shores. As we skirted the coast 
after leaving Monaco, the same delightful ever- 
varying panorama unfolded itself as we sped 
along; here a gracefully curving bay, whose 
azure waters lap a snow-white strand; there a 
group of multi-colored Italian villages, hidden 
away in the recesses of a mountain side; now 


Southern France. 


217 


passing between groves of olive trees, which have 
been cultivated for centuries, and again obtain- 
ing a glimpse of the famous vineyards and lem¬ 
on trees for which the Riviera has been famous. 

The most attractive place, perhaps, in the Ital¬ 
ian as distinguished from the French Riviera, 
is San Remo, a town which seems to rival Monte 
Carlo itself in loveliness. Nature has been prod¬ 
igal to an extraordinary degree of her richest 
gifts in this sunlit strand, where frowning Alps 
and blue-kissed ocean meet. The engineering 
feats that have been accomplished along this rug¬ 
ged seacoast are, perhaps, unsurpassed anywhere 
else in the world. The railroad runs along the 
very edge of the cliffs for more than a hundred 
miles, and the difficulties encountered in its con¬ 
struction must have been stupendous. The Amer¬ 
ican, justly proud of his country’s commanding 
greatness in the domain of civil engineering, can¬ 
not travel this wonderful steel highway without 
conceiving a higher respect for European genius 
which has produced such astonishing results. As 
the train nears Genoa it enters a tunnel pierced 
through the rugged mountain side for a distance 
of two miles. 


ITALY 


GENOA. 


T HE city of Genoa, rising like an amphi¬ 
theatre from its beautiful Gulf, with its 
churches, palaces, promenades, gardens 
and fortifications, with the naked rocky sum¬ 
mits of the Appenines and the ice-covered 
peaks of the Alps in the background, offers 
one of the grandest and most picturesque 
sights in the world. But two other cities 
that the writer has seen in his travels can 
compare with it in situation—Cadiz, nestling on 
the broad bosom of the heaving Atlantic, and 
Naples, reposing peacefully on the tranquil 
waters of its unrivalled bay. Its history is a long 
and checkered story, fromtfie days of B. C. 205, 
when Mago, the Carthaginian, landed therewith 
a large army and sacked the town in punishment 
for its sympathy with Rome, until recent times, 
when it was incorporated into the present king¬ 
dom of Italy. In the days of its greatest prosper¬ 
ity and grandeur, towards the close of the Middle 
Ages, when its fleet and its flag dominated the 
Mediterranean and the Black seas, its merchant 
princes adorned and embellished the city to such 
a degree of architectural magnificence as to jus¬ 
tify the appellation, Genoa the proud, which the 
city has enjoyed in all succeeding ages. Its great¬ 
est glory, however, lies in its fairly established 



222 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

claim of having given to the world the immortal 
discoverer and greatest sailor of all times— 
Christopher Columbus. As I stood at the base 
of the imposing monument erected by his native 
city in honor of its distinguished son, the reflec¬ 
tion suggested itself that if the past greatness and 
present commercial supremacy of Genoa disap¬ 
peared, like “the baseless fabric of a dream,” 
and the picturesque site of the maritime metrop¬ 
olis of the Riviera became an abode for howling 
wolves, its name and fame as the birthplace of 
the giant rover of the seas would remain forever 
enshrined in the hearts of humanity. True, in¬ 
deed, he received no support and little encour¬ 
agement from his native city in his worldwide 
schemes of discovery, but she gave him that 
without which all material resources would have 
been unavailing, an impassioned love for the sea 
and a heart of oak to brave its countless terrors. 

The chief points of interest in Genoa are its 
churches, its old palaces, reminiscent of the days 
of the Doges, and its piazzas or gardens. The 
principal edifice, the Cathedral of San Lorenzo, 
is a large and roomy structure in Romanesque 
style, facing an open square. The lower part of 
the facade dates from noo, the remainder from 
1523. It can hardly be said to rank among the 
great churches of Italy by reason of its lack of 
cohesiveness in architectural design, but the gen¬ 
eral effect is pleasing and impressive. For rich¬ 
ness of interior finish and decoration, the Church 


Italy. 


223 


of the Annunziata, though externally disap¬ 
pointing, far surpasses it. It was here that I 
obtained my first impression of the gorgeousness 
and wealth of adornment of Italian churches, 
which distinguish them above those of any other 
country. Italy’s absolute superiority in paint¬ 
ing, architecture, and even music, may be more 
or less successfully disputed by foreign rivals, 
but her claims to supremacy in the domain of 
the marble-worker’s art stand unchallenged. 
This Church of the Annunziata is a veritable 
triumph for the mosaic and inlaid marble crafts¬ 
man. The high altar and the altars of the side 
chapels gleam like rich jewels in the beauty of 
design and variety of color of the many precious 
marbles, and in their construction and adorn¬ 
ment. The infinite patience and extraordinary 
skill for detail required to produce such master¬ 
pieces are beyond the power of the casual ob¬ 
server to comprehend. The huge pillars that 
support the nave are monoliths of flawless Car¬ 
rara marble, inlaid with the red marble of the 
Pyrenees mountains. The columns of priceless 
black marble that adorn the church are likewise 
of one piece. As I stood surveying the richness 
and magnificence of this temple of the Living 
God, I felt as Nathaniel Hawthorne did whilst 
contemplating the interior of the Cathedral of 
San Lorenzo above mentioned: 

“I used to try to imagine how the English 
Cathedrals must have looked in their primeval 


224 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


glory before the Reformation and before the 
whitewash of Cromwell’s time had overlaid 
their marble pillars; but I never imagined any¬ 
thing at all approaching what my eyes now be¬ 
held; this sheen of polished and variegated mar¬ 
ble covering every inch of the walls, this glory 
of brilliant frescoes all over the roof and up 
within the domes, these beautiful pictures by 
great masters painted for the places which they 
now occupy, and making an actual portion of 
the edifice; this wealth of silver and gold and 
gems that adorned the shrine of St. Lawrence; 
in short, there is no imagining or remembering 
a hundredth part of the rich details.”* 

The chief point of interest in Genoa, however, 
is the world-renowned Campo Santo, or Ceme¬ 
tery of Staglieno. It is situated on a slope of the 
valley of Bisagno, a mile and a half from the 
city, and is easily reached by the electric lines. 
It is of quite recent origin, having been laid out 
in 1867. The cost of the construction was im¬ 
mense, and its ground plan, embracing vast pro¬ 
portions, is a marvel of skill and architectural 
beauty. A rotunda or temple in the style of the 
Pantheon at Rome forms the central building of 
the unique edifice, from which at right angles 
run open-air galleries of almost interminable 
length, their arches supported by columns of 
black marble, all monoliths. It requires the vis¬ 
itor two hours at least simply to walk through, 


* Italian Note Book. 




INTERIOR ('AMI'O SANTO—GENOA. 


































Italy. 


225 


at a very leisurely pace, these extensive corri¬ 
dors, stopping here and there to get a glimpse of 
the more famous monuments with which this 
u al fresco” art museum is crowded. The Ameri¬ 
can tourist, who for the first time enters Italy at 
Genoa and beholds this vast collection of sculp¬ 
tured marbles in the highest style of art, begins 
to feel the magic spell which she insensibly casts 
over the lovers of the true, the beautiful and the 
good, who are drawn within her borders. The 
Italian sculptor seems prodigal of his art, and 
there is hardly a town, hamlet or village within 
the confines of his native land that does not tes¬ 
tify to the commanding position he holds 
amongst the world’s workers in stone. A visit 
to the Campo Santo is an experience of a life¬ 
time, for nowhere else is its equal to be found as 
a city of the dead. 


PISA. 

The journey by rail from the birthplace of 
Columbus to the ancient Republic of Pisa is 
about 150 miles, and consumes five hours by fast 
express. The road runs for more than 75 miles 
along the rugged seacoast, and, though the 
scenery is unmatched for beauty, the traveler 
sees very little of it, as the train for the greater 
part of the time makes its way through one long 



226 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


continuous tunnel. It is not far from the truth 
to say that from Genoa to Spezzia, a distance of 
nearly 60 miles, there is not one clear mile of 
open space to break the gloom of the journey. 
From Ventimiglia, on the extreme eastern fron¬ 
tier, to the Italian seaport mentioned, there are 
over 200 tunnels. One may imagine the outlay 
in men, money and engineering skill required to 
construct a railway under such Herculean diffi¬ 
culties. It is in a sense as impressive a monu¬ 
ment to Italian genius as any of the finest prod¬ 
ucts of her sculptors or painters, architects and 
musicians. Fortunately, the weather was cool 
and pleasant, and as the locomotives burn a prep¬ 
aration of coal called briquettes, which give 
forth but little smoke, the trip was not very dis¬ 
agreeable. 

The history of Pisa, the most ancient of Ital¬ 
ian cities, is said to be lost in the twilight of fable. 
It was founded, according to mythological rec¬ 
ords, by Pelops, son of Tantalus and grandson of 
Jove, and was the home of Nestor after the fall 
of Troy. In the Middle Ages it reached the 
height of its splendor and prosperity as a power¬ 
ful and independent maritime republic. Its pos¬ 
sessions included the islands of Sardinia, Cor¬ 
sica, Elba, Balearic, and other territories, and 
the prowess of its hardy sons struck terror into 
the hearts of the Saracens, who were repeatedly 
vanquished by them and whose fleet was totally 
destroyed by the Pisans at Palermo, which city 


Italy. 


227 


they captured in 1063. The remains of former 
greatness are still evident in the fine old palaces 
of her merchant princes, the splendid bridges 
which span the Arno, one of which, the Ponte del 
Mezzo, of white marble with three arches, being 
one of the finest in Europe. The supreme at¬ 
traction, however, which makes Pisa the Mecca 
for the tourist from all parts of the world are the 
quartette of magnificent structures which stand 
isolated from the life of the town in a green 
sward of generous proportions, and form a 
group as harmonious and interesting as any 
edifices in the world. It has been felicitously 
said of them that “They are fortunate both in 
their solitude and their society.” These noted 
buildings are the Cathedral, the Baptistry, the 
Leaning Tower or Campanile, and the Campo 
Santo. They are all nearly one thousand years 
old, but from their appearance,both external and 
internal, are so bright, fresh and clean that they 
seem to have come from the builders’ hands not 
more than half a century ago. The material 
used in them is marble, and most of it is spot¬ 
lessly white. My anticipations were more than 
realized as I feasted my eyes on their beauty and 
grandeur. The earliest of these four incom¬ 
parable monuments of Pisa’s ancient glories is 
the Duomo, or Cathedral, which was built under 
very interesting circumstances. After the naval 
victory over the Saracens already mentioned, six 
of the largest vessels of the enemies’ fleet were 


228 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


captured, all laden with rich merchandise, which 
was brought home in triumph. The citizens 
unanimously determined to convert this booty 
into a cathedral to surpass all others in size and 
beauty, and to be at once a thank-offering to 
heaven, and a perpetual monument to their coun¬ 
try’s honor. “Everything was propitious—the 
hour was ready withthe man—the architect Bor- 
chetto, from whose master mind the plan would 
seem to have sprung at once complete, clear, and 
beautiful, like ‘Wisdom from the head of Jupi¬ 
ter.’ The first stone was laid that first year, and 
the building was completed before the close of 
the century, after becoming ere it was finished, 
the model of architecture throughout the Pisan 
archipelago.* 

The Cathedral is Romanesque in architecture, 
built in the shape of a Latin cross with a cupola 
or central dome at the juncture of the nave and 
transept. It is majestic in proportions and ex¬ 
tremely rich in interior and exterior decorations. 
The material of which it is constructed is white 
marble, to which time has given a rich, creamy 
tint. It stands upon a platform, also of marble, 
elevated several steps from the ground, which 
adds greatly to the external effect produced. The 
great bronze doors replacing those previously de¬ 
stroyed by fire, were executed by Giovanni da 
Bologna, and contain scenes in bas-relief repre¬ 
senting incidents in the life of Christ and His 


* Lindsay’s Christian Art. 



Italy. 


229 


Blessed Mother. The interior of the edifice is a 
veritable “embarrassment des richesses,” aston¬ 
ishing the beholder with the wealth of precious 
marbles, mostly inlaid, of every variety, and its 
superb collection of paintings of the old masters 
including the best work of Andrea del Sarto. 

The great bronze lamp which swings before 
the Sanctuary possesses for the sightseer, not 
only an artistic, but also an historic interest, for it 
was here that the youthful Galileo then but eigh¬ 
teen years old, observing its slow, uniform move¬ 
ment, was led to evolve the theory of the motion 
of the earth and to establish those basic princi¬ 
ples of celestial mechanics which have become 
the accepted groundwork of modern astronomi¬ 
cal science. 

The famous Leaning Tower or Campanile, is, 
as is well known, one of the wonders of the world. 
It was begun in 1274 by Bonanus of Pisa and 
William of Innsbruck. Whether by accident or 
design, it is not definitely known which, it was 
built at a great inclination from the perpendi¬ 
cular, its centre of gravity falling ten feet within 
the base. Architecturally, it is a thing of beauty, 
its pure white marble undimmed by the discolor¬ 
ing hand of Time. It is 179 feet in height, about 
the same altitude as the Washington Monument 
in Baltimore, 50 feet in diameter, and the summit 
is reached by a flight of 330 steps, from which 
point a view of vast extent and surpassing beauty 
is obtained. A strange, uncanny feeling takes 


230 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

possession of the spectator as he stands at the top 
of the tower with the base hidden from view, and 
looks down upon emptiness. It is an experi¬ 
ence to be met with perhaps nowhere else in the 
world. 

The Baptistry and Campo Santo complete the 
group of buildings which have made Pisa re¬ 
nowned for all time. The former stands like a 
giant sentinel facing the facade of the Cathedral, 
and in majestic proportions and beauty of deco¬ 
ration, internal and external, surpasses its famous 
rival at Florence. It is built in circular style, 
160 feet in diameter, 179 feet high, with mosaic 
pavement and elaborately carved columns. A 
striking feature of the interior of the edifice is 
the remarkable acoustic phenomena produced by 
the sound of the human voice, the echo from 
which reverberates again and again throughout 
the hollow chamber. 

The Campo Santo, or burial ground, is the 
oldest of its kind in Italy, and became the model 
for all burying places of like character, notably 
that of Genoa. Its galleries are covered with 
frescoes of great merit, but much defaced by 
Time and the elements. 

Nothing that I have seen thus far in my jour¬ 
ney through Europe has given me more com¬ 
plete satisfaction than these four superb edifices 
standing in the midst of a spacious, well-kept 
lawn, like gems of precious value set in a 
frame of emerald hue—the pride and the glory 




') 


CATHEDRAL AND LEANING TOWER—PISA 
































Italy. 


231 


of the old maritime Republic. Naturally ex¬ 
pecting to find them, at least exteriorly, antique 
and dingy, like most of the historic edifices one 
meets with abroad, my surprise was equalled only 
by admiration. In the words of Holy Writ: 
“There were giants in those days,” and the living 
faith which they breathed into these mighty 
works of their hands and brains constitutes an 
eloquent object lesson to the spirit of cynical in¬ 
difference and soul-destroying skepticism of our 
twentieth century. The good, the beautiful, and 
the true, find their highest expression in the 
deeply religious sense alone, and the noblest 
monuments of human art and human aspiration 
that greet the eye and elevate the soul of the 
traveler are the glory and the product of that 
Church which for centuries has been the guiding 
star of human destiny. Fair minded men of • 
every creed and shade of belief or non-belief 
have cheerfully acknowledged this overwhelming 
obligation which modern civilization owes to the 
old Mother Church, none more eloquently per¬ 
haps than that master mind and statesman of the 
nineteenth century, the Right Hon. W. E. Glad¬ 
stone: “The Catholic Church,” he says, “has 
marched for fifteen hundred years at the head 
of civilization, and has harnessed to her 
chariot, as the horses of a triumphal car, 
the chief intellectual and material forces of 
the world; her art, the art of the world; 
her genius, the genius of the world; her 


16 


232 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

greatness, her glory, her grandeur and majesty 
have been almost, though not absolutely, all that 
in these respects the world has to boast of. Her 
children are more numerous than all the children 
of the sects combined; she is every day enlarging 
the boundaries of her vast empire; her altars are 
raised in every clime, and her missionaries are 
to be found wherever there are men to be taught, 
the Evangel of immortality, and souls to be saved. 
And this wondrous Church which is as old as 
Christianity, and as universal as mankind, is to¬ 
day, after its twenty centuries of age, as fresh and 
vigorous and fruitful as the day when the Pente¬ 
costal fires were showered upon the earth.” 


ROME. 

It is a trite saying that a visit to the Eternal 
City constitutes an epoch in the life of the tra¬ 
veler. What with the overwhelming memories 
of her past greatness, and her present unique po¬ 
sition as the centre and head of the largest body 
of professing Christians on earth, the stranger, 
whoever he may be, or from what land, how 
distant he may have come, cannot be altogether 
insensible as his feet tread the sacred and historic 
soil of Rome for the first time, that to him has 
been granted a privilege rare and surpassing 
amongst the millions of his fellow-men to whom 



Italy. 


2 33 


the magic name of the former capital of the 
world means only a printed word on the pages of 
history. When he finds himself, at last, after 
many wanderings, hopes, and disappointments, 
admitted within the crumbling walls of the city 
of the Caesars, the once proud Mistress of the 
World, his thoughts, not unnaturally, would har¬ 
monize with the noble words of the English bard 
whose classic soul expressed its emotion in the 
well-known lines: 

“Oh, Rome ! My country! City of the soul! 

The orphans of the heart roust turn to thee, 

Lone mother of dead empires ! 

The Niobe of nations! there she stands, 

Childless and crownless in her voiceless woe; 

An empty urn within her withered hands, 

Whose holy dust was scattered long ago; 

The Scipio’s tomb contains no ashes now; 

The very sepulchres lie tenantless 

Of their heroic dwellers: dost thou flow 
Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness ? 

Rise with thy yellow waves and mantle her children. 

The Goth, the Christian, Time, War, Flood and Fire 
Have dealt upon the seven-hilled city’s pride; 

She saw her glory star by star expire, 

And up the steep barbarian monarchs ride, 

Where the car climbed the Capitol; far and wide, 
Temple and tower went down, nor left a site: 

Chaos of ruins! who shall trace the void, 

And say, ‘Here was or is’ where all is doubly night ?”* 

A century has passed since Byron uttered his 
soul-stirring lament over the fragmentary re¬ 
mains of Imperial Rome, and since that time 
much has been done by learned archaeologists, 


* Childe Harold. 



234 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

with the support and encouragement of the 
Popes, and lately by the Italian government, to 
rescue from total destruction the most notable 
monuments of antiquity that still survive the 
ravages of Time, to testify to her former great¬ 
ness. By their indefatigable efforts the Roman 
Forum, the soul and sanctuary of the ancient 
city, has been resurrected from the mass of de¬ 
bris under which it had been buried for more 
than a thousand years, and though but isolated 
entablatures, friezes and broken columns of its 
once proud temples, triumphal arches, palaces, 
and public buildings survive the wreck of ages, 
enough has been preserved to enable the intelli¬ 
gent observer to gain a faint idea of the ground 
plan and dimensions of this, the most celebrated 
spot in the world's history. The first impression 
that strikes the beholder as he stands within the 
Roman Forum is one of astonishment that so 
narrow a space could contain the stage upon 
which were acted so many and such momentous 
scenes that determined for centuries the destinies 
of the human race. To an American, at least, it 
appears ridiculously small, if not insignificant. 
It seems almost impossible of belief that the 
numberless temples, triumphal arches and other 
public structures of which the classical authors 
speak, could find room within this restricted area. 
As a solution to the difficulty, the explanation is 
offered that each period, from Romulus and 
Tatius to the Emperor Julian, roust have pulled 


Italy. 


23s 


down to build up; that the Forum in the time of 
Scipio was no longer like the Forum of Tarquin; 
that the first Caesars laid low the buildings of the 
republic; that they in turn yielded their temples 
and basilicas to the ambitious enterprises of the 
Flavii, the Antonines, and their successors. How 
many monuments must have succeeded one an¬ 
other on the Via Sacra, changed names and dis¬ 
appeared! The only conspicuous objects yet re¬ 
maining of all this grandeur are the triumphal 
arche of Septimus Severus, in a fair state of 
preservation, an imposing colonnade of the for¬ 
mer magnificent temple of Saturn, erected 490 
years before Christ, and a trio of columns that 
once formed a portion of the porch of the temple 
of Castor and Pollux. The rest is a confused, 
disjointed mass of broken capitals, mounds of 
crumbling bricks, isolated pediments, scattered 
blocks of marble, fragmentary columns. So lit¬ 
tle is there left to remind the spectator of the 
former splendor of the Roman Forum that the 
imagination has to be invoked to produce the 
effect desired. Amid the multitude of stirring 
events associated with this world-renowned spot, 
the mere rehearsal of which would consume 
many pages of Rome’s history, two predominant 
reflections stood out in the mind of the writer as 
he surveyed the scene before him. Here Julius 
Caesar, “the foremost man of all this world,” was 
hacked to pieces by the daggers of Brutus and 
his associates, and fell a bleeding corpse at the 


236 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

foot of Pompey’s statue; here from the historic 
Rostra, Antony delivered his funeral oration 
over Caesar’s remians with such consummate art 
that his forensic eloquence roused the Roman 
populace to such a pitch of frenzy that the cause 
of the conspirators was foredoomed to defeat 
even before its final extinction on the plains of 
Philippi. Here Cicero, the prince of orators, 
thundered those fiery denunciations of Antony 
and his fellow-members of the Triumvirate 
which cost him his life. After his assassination 
his head and hands were fastened to the Rostra 
and exhibited; Fulvia, the wife of one of the tri¬ 
umvirate, pierced his tongue with her bodkin, 
and spat in the dead man’s face. What a com¬ 
mentary on the vicissitudes of human greatness 
that two such men, whose names are writ large on 
the pages of Roman history, should have closed 
their earthly careers and gone down to their 
graves bathed in their own blood shed by mur¬ 
derous hands! 

Turning from the Forum, a short walk 
brought me to the greatest and most impressive 
of the monuments still surviving of Imperial 
Rome—the Colosseum. Familiarity with the 
many photographs I had seen prepared me for 
disappointment when I stood face to face with 
the original. The effect, however, was quite the 
reverse. The ancient structure overawed me 
with a sense of its vast proportions, the massive¬ 
ness and solidity of its masonry—huge blocks of 
Travertine, a stone quite common in the vicinity 


Italy. 


237 


of Rome—piled high one upon the other to the 
height of 159 feet, and forming an immense el¬ 
lipse, with an exterior length of 607 feet, and a 
breadth of 512 feet. This colossal pile, which 
for magnitude can only be compared to the pyra¬ 
mids of Egypt, and which is perhaps the most 
striking monument at once of the material and 
moral degradation of Rome under the Empire, 
was commenced by the Emperor Vespasian in 
A. D. 72, and finished by his son Titus in A. D. 
80. The captive Jews led in chains to Rome 
after the destruction of Jerusalem, were em¬ 
ployed on its construction amid terrible hard¬ 
ships, the Colosseum being thus a monument of 
their sufferings and political degradation. The 
seating capacity of the circular building has been 
estimated at 87,000. The dedication ceremonies 
lasted a hundred days; several thousand gladia¬ 
tors were killed, “butchered to make a Roman 
holiday;” five thousand wild beasts were de¬ 
stroyed, and a naval battle was fought in the 
amphitheatre, which by means of inundation was 
converted into a lake. The unhappy gladiators 
were chiefly captives or slaves from northern 
barbarous races, condemned to fight to the death 
to amuse the Emperor and the Roman populace. 

“We who wander among the ruined arches of 
the Colosseum find difficulty in picturing to the 
imagination what it was in the days of its splen¬ 
dor; the rough, massy blocks of Travertine, now 
crumbling and exposed, were overlaid within 


238 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

and without the building with white marble. 
The external walls were adorned with numerous 
marble statues that stood beneath the arches. 
Within, the benches went circling round, tier 
after tier, till they reached a height that was only 
less imposing than the lateral extent. Nothing 
met the eye that was not gorgeous, gay, artistic 
and costly. The Emperor is there seated on the 
cushioned marble, under a silken canopy; one 
of the most prominent portions of the magnifi¬ 
cent sweep is allotted to the Vestals, who sit there 
in their spotless white robes, complacent or ex¬ 
cited spectators of the bloodshed; near them is 
the seat for the Emperor; the stately Senate is 
there, and the company of Roman knights; ma¬ 
trons in rich attire—all that Rome holds of hon¬ 
ored in society, eminent in literature and art, val¬ 
orous in war.* 

As I stood in the centre of the arena, hallowed 
by the blood of the early Christians, as well as 
polluted by the sanguinary combats of gladia¬ 
tors, I allowed my reflections to run riot on Im¬ 
perial Rome, her past glories and overwhelming 
greatness, and the sombre effects of the gnawing 
tooth of Time on the symbols of a people’s power 
and splendor, as typefied in the vast and majestic 
ruin which stood before my eyes. Lord Byron 
again came to my assistance as I recalled the 
noble lines of Childe Harold: 


* Anderson, S. J., Evenings with the Saints. 



Italy. 


239 


“Arches on arches! as it were that Rome, 

Collecting the chief trophies of her line, 

Would build up all her triumphs in one dome 
Her Colosseum stands: the moonbeams shine 
As ’twere its natural torches, for divine 
Should be the light which streams here to illume 
This long explored, but still exhaustless mine 
Of contemplation; and the azure gloom 
Of the Italian night, where the deep skies assume 

Hues which have words and speak to ye of Heaven, 
Floats o’er this vast and wondrous monument, 

And shadows forth its glory. There is given 
Unto the things of earth, which Time hath bent 
A Spirit’s feeling, and where he hath leant 
His hand, but broke his scythe, there is a power 
And magic in the ruined battlement 
For which the palace of the present hour 
Must yield its pomp, and wait till ages are its dower.” 

Perhaps no building still surviving the rav¬ 
ages of Time has experienced more vicissitudes 
of Fortune than this two-thousand-year-old Col¬ 
osseum. In A. D. 217, during the reign of Mac- 
rinus, it was repeatedly struck by lightning; the 
woodwork of the fourth story caught fire, and 
the falling embers set the floor of the arena 
ablaze. This led to its abandonment for many 
years. In 422 and 480 earthquakes greatly dam¬ 
aged the structure, but repairs were quickly 
made, which restored it to its former condition. 

The building seems to have been still intact in 
the eighth century, when St. Bede wrote his fa¬ 
mous proverb: “Quamdiv stat Colisaeum, stabit 
et Roma; quando cadet Colisaeum cadet et Ro¬ 
ma; quando cadet Roma, cadet et mundus.”* 

* So long as the Colosseum stands, Rome shall stand ; when falls the 
Colosseum, Rome shall fall; when Rome falls, the world shall fall. 



240 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


In the eleventh century the huge building be¬ 
came a fortress, of which the Frangipani and the 
Annibaldi, two rival families, disputed the pos¬ 
session. In 1362 it was left a ruin, and served as 
a stone quarry for public buildings. 

Notwithstanding a brief of Pope Eugenius 
IV. (1431-1447) forbidding the rapacity of the 
Roman masons, the building continued to be 
used as a stone quarry, and furnished materials 
for some of the most magnificent and historic 
palaces of the old aristocracy of the Eternal City. 

“A ruin, yet what a ruin! From its mass 

Walls, palaces, half cities have been reared. 

Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass 

And marvel where the spoil could have appeared; 

Hath it indeed been plundered or but cleared ? 

Alas! developed opens the decay 

When the colossal fabric’s form is reared; 

It will not bear the brightness of the day, 

Which streams too much on all years, man, have reft away. 

But when the rising moon begins to climb 
Its topmost arch and gently pauses there, 

When the stars twinkle through the loops of time, 

And the low night breeze waves along the air 
The garland-forest, which the gray walls wear, 

Like laurels on the bald Caesar’s heod; 

When the light shines serene, but doth not glare, 

Then in this magic circle raise the dead: 

Heroes have trod this spot—’tis on their dust ye tread. 

While stands the Colosseum, Rome shall stand; 

When falls the Colosseum, Rome shall fall; 

And when Rome falls—the World. From our own land 
Thus spake the pilgrims o’er this mighty wall 
In Saxon times which we are wont to call 
Ancient.” * 


* Childe Harold. 



Italy. 


241 


The Colosseum not only typifies in its majes¬ 
tic form the Imperial splendor of Pagan Rome, 
but it is also a hallowed spot in the mind of the 
Christian believer. The sands of its arena, 
which were dyed deep for centuries with the 
blood of thousands of men slaughtered in gladia¬ 
torial combats, and hundreds of thousands of 
wild animals, which tore one another to pieces to 
satiate the thirst of the Roman populace for gore, 
have also been hallowed by the life blood of 
countless numbers of heroic martyrs of every 
age, race, condition, and of both sexes, who here 
gladly gave testimony for Jesus Christ before all 
the world. The followers of the hated Nazarene 
were considered fit food for the lions and tigers 
that bounded into the Flavian amphitheatre with 
their ravenous appetites whetted after a pro¬ 
longed abstinence. The cause for which these 
martyrs died seemed forever lost in the merciless 
cries of the blood-thirsty mob, “Christianos ad 
Leones!” and yet but a short distance from the 
scenes of their sufferings rises in triumph the ma¬ 
jestic arch of Constantine to prove to all mankind 
that they did not die in vain. 

This imposing monument to the first Roman 
Emperor who embraced Christianity was erected 
by the Roman Senate and people in commemora¬ 
tion of his victory over the tyrant Maxentius at 
the Milvian Bridge sixteen hundred years ago, 
A. D. 312. It consists of three rounded arches, 
with eight fluted Corinthian columns, and bas- 


242 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

reliefs of different periods, the upper ones of 
finer workmanship being taken from the Arch 
of Trajan. It spans the Via Triumphalis, which 
leads to the Via Appia. 

Lanciani, the distinguished Roman archaeolo¬ 
gist, observed that the inscription containing the 
two memorable words, “Instinctu Divinitatis,” 
proclaimed officially in the face of Pagan Rome 
that the Empire owed its deliverance by Con¬ 
stantine from the tyranny of Maxentius to the 
favor of the one true God. 

The fall of Jerusalem and the dispersion of 
the Jews come vividly before the mind of the 
spectator as he stands before the Triumphal 
Arch of Titus, almost within the shadow of the 
Colosseum, and one of the oldest monuments of 
ancient Rome, dating back to within a third of 
a century of the birth of Christianity, A. D. 83. 
It was erected by Domitian, his brother and 
successor as Roman Emperor, to commemo¬ 
rate his victories over the Jews. In their last des¬ 
perate efforts to shake off the galling yoke of 
Roman supremacy and establish again their po¬ 
litical independence, the sons of Israel fought 
with a stubbornness and courage worthy of the 
days of Judas Macabaeus, but in vain. Jeru¬ 
salem was stormed and taken by assault, the tem¬ 
ple plundered and destroyed, the city leveled to 
the ground, and more than a million of its un¬ 
fortunate inhabitants perished by the sword, pes¬ 
tilence and famine. One of the bas-reliefs, re- 


Italy. 


243 


markably clear and well preserved, depicts the 
triumphal march of Titus with Jewish captives 
and soldiers bearing the Golden Table, the 
Seven-branched Candlestick, two Censers and 
other spoils of the Temple of Jerusalem. Jo¬ 
sephus, the Jewish historian, in his “Antiqui¬ 
ties,” narrates that these sacred spoils were con¬ 
veyed to Rome by Titus and deposited in his 
Temple of Peace. 

The Palatine. 

Opposite the Arch of Constantine, on a rising 
elevation, the eye of the observer sees an exten¬ 
sive mass of almost shapeless ruins, which marks 
the site of the most famous of the seven hills of 
Rome—the Palatine. From time immemorial 
this spot has been pointed out as the birthplace 
of Roman history, for tradition says that it was 
here that Romulus founded his primitive city— 
the remains of a house in which he lived are still 
visible—and here also resided Rome’s first 
kings—Numa, Tullus Hostilius, Ancus Martius 
and Tarquinius Priscus. 

Towards the close of the Republic it became 
one of the most aristocratic quarters of the city; 
the leaders of Rome’s literary, forensic and po¬ 
litical life all had their mansions here, chiefly 
on the western side, facing the Forum. Here 
arose the sumptuous palaces of the Gracchi, of 
Fulvius Flaccus, of Livius Drusus (which was 



244 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

formerly the house of Crassus, the orator), of 
Cicero, of Clodius, the enemy of Cicero, of 
Aemilius Scaurus, purchased by Clodius for a 
sum said to be four million two hundred and 
twenty-five thousand dollars. 

On the side of the hill facing the Circus Max¬ 
imus stood the houses of Hortensius, Cataline 
and Mark Antony. Augustus, the first Roman 
Emperor, was born on the Palatine, and after the 
Battle of Actium, which made him the master of 
the world, he fixed here the seat of his Empire. 
He purchased the houses of Hortensius and Cat¬ 
aline, and afterwards enlarged the imperial pal¬ 
ace, enriching it with the choicest masterpieces 
of Greek, Etruscan and Roman art. It was after¬ 
wards destroyed by the fire of Nero. The pal¬ 
aces of his successors, Tiberius, Germanicus, 
Caligula and the golden palace of Nero far 
eclipsed it in magnificence and splendor. Every 
land into which the Roman arms had penetrated 
was laid under contribution; Greece sent its 
marbles and statues; Egypt its columns of gran¬ 
ite, basalt and porphyry; Persia its silks and em¬ 
broidered hangings; India its ivory and richest 
gems. 

All this accumulated magnificence of trium¬ 
phant Paganism, needless to say, has long since 
disappeared, and the only evidences to remind 
the modern sightseer of the imperial splendor 
of the once proud Palatine are the vast and laby¬ 
rinthine ruins through which he slowly treads 


Italy. 


245 


his way like a wanderer lost in a forest. The 
Hun, the Vandal, and the Goth, each in his turn, 
has gorged himself with the unparalleled plun¬ 
der of the Caesars until, with the lapse of Time, 
even the very ruins were buried deep under a 
mass of earth and debris. Fifty years ago farm 
lands covered the site of the Palatine, and for 
centuries its existence was almost entirely for¬ 
gotten. Thanks to the labors of distinguished 
Roman archaeologists, amongst whom the name 
of Lanciani stands pre-eminent, vast excavations 
have been undertaken, so that the entire hill re¬ 
sembles an extensive museum of antiquities, lit¬ 
tered over with fragments of classical memories. 

St. Peter's. 

The Palatine and the adjoining Roman Forum, 
with their wilderness of broken stones and shat¬ 
tered monuments, are the chief and almost the 
last remaining vestiges of the might and pomp 
and power of Pagan Rome. Its ancient and 
marvelous civilization, that had reached the 
highest apex of human genius, that had pene¬ 
trated into distant and barbarous countries, fol¬ 
lowing the flight of the Roman Eagle, and had 
transformed them from conditions of almost ut¬ 
ter savagery to those of cultured and enlightened 
peoples, was, nevertheless, weighed down by the 
incubus of a false and degrading religion, whose 
corrupt principles, containing in themselves the 


246 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

seeds of disintegration, ultimately led to its final 
extinction. “All the idolatries, all the polythe¬ 
isms, all he immoralities, all the cruelties, all the 
abominations of man, were summed up in that 
empire. All that man could do without God was 
there.”* In every sphere of human excellence or 
human effort its unquestioned superiority is ac¬ 
knowledged. In art, literature, architecture, com¬ 
merce, wealth, military genius and power, it has 
never been equaled, much less surpassed. It had 
inherited and eclipsed the majesty and grandeur 
of all the empires that had preceded it—Assyria, 
Egypt, Babylonia, Persia, and like them, it be¬ 
came infected with the canker worm of corrup¬ 
tion, voluptuousness and licentiousness; it be¬ 
came rotten to the core, and the barbarian hordes 
from the fastnesses of the North and East merely 
hastened the end of an institution that was fast 
dying from its own inherent iniquities. 

Pagan Rome and the memorials of its ancient 
splendor still surviving, possessed for the writer 
a secondary interest only, and would hardly of 
themselves, he is frank to confess, have offered 
attractions powerful enough to draw his foot¬ 
steps to the Eternal City. It was Rome, the City 
of the Popes, the centre and the fountainhead 
of the religion of Jesus Christ, the teacher of the 
nations, the beacon light of humanity, the foun¬ 
der of modern civilization, that drew me with 
an almost irresistible force as a pilgrim within 


* Cardinal Manning. Sermons. 



Italy. 


247 


its walls. For a similar reason that great light 
of the Eastern Church and Archbishop of Con¬ 
stantinople—the new Rome set upon the banks 
of the Bosphorus, St. John Chrysostom exclaims 
with enthusiasm: “The heaven, resplendent with 
the sun’s rays, does not shine with greater bril¬ 
liancy than the city of Rome, illumined by the 
splendor of the two Apostles. I admire Rome, 
not for its wealth of gold, its columns, its splen¬ 
did decorations, but because of those two pillars 
of the Church,” whose remains it enshrines. 
Christianity alone saved Rome from the fate of 
Tyre, Sidon, Nineveh and Babylon, and when 
the standard of the Caesars went down in ruin 
and decay, the cross of Christ, the symbol of a 
newer and higher civilization, was raised in tri¬ 
umph over the Capitol, to assure mankind of the 
dawn of a brighter era and to win more glorious 
conquests than had ever been achieved by Roman 
military genius. Henceforth the Eternal City 
was to stand forth as the centre and the citadel 
of that religion which was to confer greater bless¬ 
ings on the nations of the earth, “sitting in dark¬ 
ness and the shadow of death,” than any other 
single agency known in the annals of man. Com¬ 
missioned by the Popes, the lawful successors of 
Him to whom Christ said: “Feed my lambs, 
feed my sheep,” the bearers of the Gospel mes¬ 
sage went out to the peoples of Europe and ulti¬ 
mately to the uttermost ends of the earth—Au¬ 
gustine to England, Remy to France, Boniface 


17 



248 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


to Germany, Patrick to Ireland. To Rome 
again, as to their spiritual mother, in every age, 
countless pilgrims have thronged from all parts 
of the world to visit the tombs of the Apostles, 
to venerate the common father of the faithful, 
to behold the scenes hallowed by the lives, the 
sufferings and deaths of the early martyrs of the 
Church, and to return to their homes strength¬ 
ened and ennobled by a higher and a holier con¬ 
ception of the dignity of their faith and its sol¬ 
emn responsibilities. 

In this spirit the writer spent the greater pro¬ 
portion of two weeks in Rome, and the impres¬ 
sions gained will ever constitute the most mem¬ 
orable epoch in his life. Needless to remark, the 
Eternal City is overwhelmnigly rich in monu¬ 
ments of ecclesiastical art, the very enumeration 
of which would fill the pages of a thick volume, 
whilst the time required to inspect them would 
consume months, if not years. The secret of the 
fascination which Rome possesses for the stranger 
within her gates lies in the fact that here and 
here alone may be read the story of the develop¬ 
ment of Christianity from its earliest beginnings 
to the present day. The part she has played in 
the rehabilitation and recivilization of the na¬ 
tions of Western Europe has endowed her with 
a glory all her own. Inspired by higher ideals 
than those of Pagan antiquity, she has filled the 
world with the productions of a nobler art, and 
the masterpieces of sculpture, painting and arch- 


Italy. 


249 


itecture that excite the admiration of mankind, 
testify to the overwhelming success she has 
achieved. Nowhere is this effect more astonish¬ 
ingly evident than in Rome itself. Never can I 
forget the impressions experienced when for the 
first time my eyes beheld the majestic basilica 
of St. Peter's. The day was ideal, and it was 
Sunday morning. A warm, genial sun looked 
down from the depths of a deep blue Italian sky. 
Having already seen and studied the magnificent 
cathedrals of Spain, I was scarcely in the posi¬ 
tion of the average traveler, who sees a great 
church for the first time and is easily im¬ 
pressed. I was quite prepared for something 
grand and glorious, and after previous experi¬ 
ences, had set my standard of judgment ex¬ 
tremely high. St. Peter's, however, far sur¬ 
passed my most sanguine expectations. The ap¬ 
proach to the great cathedral—the vast square 
which can contain in its all-embracing area an 
army of two hundred thousand men, the impos¬ 
ing Egyptian obelisk in the centre, flanked by 
artistic gushing fountains, the mighty sweep of 
the semi-circular colonnade, with its gigantic 
columns, four rows deep and 48 feet high, gives 
to St. Peter's a setting that is unequaled by any 
other temple on earth. Unlike so many other 
famous cathedrals of Europe, the exterior is not 
dingy or unpleasing to the eye, but comparative¬ 
ly fresh and clean. The Travertine of which 
it is built seems admirably adapted to withstand 


250 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the discoloring effects of time and the elements. 
The interior, however, is so dazzingly magnifi¬ 
cent, so rich, so grand, one might say so stupen¬ 
dous, that words fail to convey the overwhelming 
effect produced on one who for the first time 
beholds the matchless glory of St. Peter’s. No¬ 
where in the English tongue has this awe-inspir¬ 
ing impression been voiced more majestically 
than in the well-known lines of Childe Harold: 

! 

“But lo! the dome—the vast and wondrous dome, 

To which Diana’s marvel was a cell— 

Christ’s mighty shrine above his martyr’s tomb, 

I have beheld the Ephesian’s miracle— 

Its columns strew the wilderness, and dwell 
The hyenas and the jackals in their shade; 

I have beheld Sophia’s bright roofs swell 
Their glittering mass in the sun, and have surveyed 
Its sanctuary, the while usurping Moslems prayed; 

But thou, of temples old, or altars new, 

Standest alone, "with nothing like to thee— 

Worthiest of God, the holy and the true. 

Since Zion’s desolation, when that He 
Forsook his former city, what could be 
Of earthly structures in his honor piled. 

Of a sublimer aspect? Majesty 
Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty all are aisled 
In this eternal Ark of worship undefiled.” 

St. Peter’s is undoubtedly the crowning sum¬ 
mit of human architectural genius and expres¬ 
sion—man’s highest tribute to his Maker. It 
typifies at the same time the spirit of the Catholic 
Church, that spirit which came down from 
heaven to earth and has infused itself into every 


Italy. 


25 i 

sphere of human society, transforming, elevat¬ 
ing and purifying it. The debt that civilization 
owes to her is so enormous that human language 
is inadequate to describe its magnitude. That 
she is, and has ever been, the true mother of the 
arts, architecture, painting, sculpture and their 
kindred sister music, is impressively manifest in 
the mighty cathedrals with which she has dotted 
the face of Europe. That she is also the acknowl¬ 
edged creator of modern learning, the foremost 
patroness of letters and the sciences, is strikingly 
evident from the story of the foundation of the 
great universities which she has established in 
almost every city of the Old World—Oxford 
and Cambridge in England, Paris, Bologna, 
Naples, Padua, Heidelberg, Vienna, Prague, 
Salamanca, Louvain, Copenhagen. The first 
university to be erected on the soil of the New 
World, that of Lima, Peru, owes its origin to her 
encouragement. “By their fruits ye shall know 
them,” said her Divine Founder, and by that 
same test she fearlessly challenges the criticism 
of an ungrateful and sceptical world. 

It was my good fortune to arrive in time for 
the Solemn High Mass and to enjoy the splendid 
singing of the famous choir, the members of 
which is composed of men and boys whose voices 
seemed to blend in perfect harmony. The music 
rendered was one of Palestrini’s Masses for four 
parts, and the treble was so admirably sustained 
by the youthful choristers that the absence of 



252 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

women from the choir loft seemed almost in¬ 
credible. The Pope’s decree on church music 
would undoubtedly effect a great reform in this 
particular feature of public worship if all our 
churches throughout the world could be pro¬ 
vided with male choirs trained after the manner 
of that of St. Peter’s. 

After the Mass and whilst walking around the 
great edifice studying more in detail its mani¬ 
fold beauties, I encountered a party of fellow- 
Americans, of different denominations, who 
were desirous of visiting the crypt. Through 
the kindness of Monsignor Bisogno, permission 
was granted to them and myself. Many of the 
early popes are buried here, besides several rulers 
of the olden times. Amongst these are the tombs, 
wholly of granite and massive in size, of Pope 
Adrian IV. Nicholas Breakspeare, the only 
Englishman who ever sat on the papal chair, and 
who governed the church from 1154 to 1159, and 
Otho II., Roman Emperor who died in the Eter¬ 
nal City nearly a thousand years ago. The crypt 
extends under St. Peter’s for almost its entire 
length, and is a labyrinth of corridors and arch¬ 
ways. 

Our guide finally led us to that part of the 
crypt directly under the high altar where repose 
in a magnificent shrine of precious marbles, 
lighted by a chain of golden lamps perpetually 
burning, the remains of the great Apostle to 
whom was given the headship of the church of 


Italy. 


253 


Christ, and whose name the mighty edifice bears. 
Far above our heads towered the massive dome 
to the height of nearly five hundred feet, and 
around its base glittered in gold mosaics, each 
letter six feet long, the words addressed twenty 
centuries ago to the humble Galilean fisherman 
of Judea: “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I 
will build My Church.” The marvelous preser¬ 
vation and unparalleled activity of the Papacy for 
the past two thousand years is the miracle of his¬ 
tory. “The proudest royal houses are but of yes¬ 
terday when compared with the line of the 
Supreme Pontiffs. That line we trace in an un¬ 
broken series from the Pope who crowned Napo- 
elon in the nineteenth century to the Pope who 
crowned Pepin in the eighth; and far beyond the 
time of Pepin, the august dynasty extends till it 
is lost in the twilight of fable. The Republic of 
Venice came next in antiquity. But the Republic 
of Venice was modern when compared to the 
Papacy; and the Republic of Venice is gone, 
and the Papacy remains. The Papacy remains, 
not in decay, not a mere antique, but full of life 
and youthful vigor.”* 

After venerating the tomb of the Apostle, I 
returned to the church to spend several hours 
in trying to study a few of its numberless details. 
Besides the vast imposing nave, with its glorious 
arches of sunken coffers, dazzling with inlaid 
gold, and the great bronze canopy, with its high 


* Lord Macaulay. Essay on Von Rawke. 



254 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

altars, directly under the dome, the side aisles of 
St. Peter’s, with their forty-four chapels and 
wonderful copies in mosaic of the masterpieces 
of Raphael, Guido, Domenichino, and many 
others whose genius has enriched Christianity, 
irresistibly attract the attention of the beholder. 
As one examines carefully these copies of great 
paintings, it is difficult to realize that they are 
executed not with the brush on canvas, but are 
composed of a countless number of tiny stones 
so skilfully tinted that they reproduce with mar¬ 
velous fidelity not only the color of the picture, 
but also every expression of the original. The 
mausoleums of the Popes that adorn these aisles 
are unsurpassed for artistic performance, notably 
the tomb of Clement XIII., by Canova. 

Much has been written concerning the effect 
produced on the mind by the immensity of St. 
Peter’s. The proportions of the church are so 
perfect that its vastness grows, but does not be¬ 
wilder. The work of centuries and the product 
of the colossal genius of its builders and decora¬ 
tors cannot, of course, be grasped in a few hours, 
nor even months, so I did not attempt the im¬ 
possible, but contented myself with carrying 
away a fairly well defined mental picture of the 
whole,which was heightened by several subse¬ 
quent visits. 

“Enter: Its grandeur overwhelms thee not; 

And why ? It is not lessened, but thy mind. 

Exhausted by the genius of the spot, 

Has grown colossal, and can only find 

A fit abode wherein appear enshrined 


Italy. 


255 


Her hopes of immortality; and thou 

Shalt one day, if found worthy, so defined 
See thy God face to face as thou dost now 
His Holy of Holies, nor be blasted by His brow. 

Thou movest; but increasing with the advance, 

Like climbing some great Alp which still doth rise 
Deceived by its gigantic elegance; 

Vastness which grows, but grows to harmonize 
All musical in its immensities; 

Rich marbles, richer paintings, shrines where flame 
The lamps of gold, and haughty dome which vies 
In air with Earth’s chief structures, though their frame 
Sits on the firm set ground—and this the clouds must 
claim. 

Thou seest not all; but piecemeal thou must break, 

To separate contemplation, the great whole 
And as the ocean many bays will make 

That ask the eye—so here condense thy soul 
To more immediate objects, and control 
Thy thoughts until thy mind hath got by heart 
Its eloquent proportions, and unroll 
Its mighty gradations part by part 
The glory which at once upon thee did not dart; 

Not by its fault, but thine: our outward sense 
Is but of gradual grasp—and as it is 
That which we have of feeling most intense, 

Outstrips our faint expression; e’en so this 
Outshining and o’erwhelming edifice 
Fools our fond gaze and greatest of the great 
Defies at first our Nature’s littleness, 

Till, growing with its growth, we thus dilate 
Our spirits to the size of that they contemplate. 

Then pause and be enlightened; there is more 
In such a survey than the sating gaze 
Of wonder pleased or awe which would adore 
The worship of the place, or the mere praise 
Of art and its great masters, who could raise 
What former time, nor skill, nor thought could plan; 

The fountains of sublimity displays 
Its depths, and thence may draw the mind of man 
Its golden sands and learn what great conceptions can.”* 


* Child® Harold. 




256 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


St. Paul's. 

Having surveyed the grandeurs of St. Peter’s, 
my thoughts and inclinations naturally led me to 
view the great basilica erected to the memory of 
his fellow-apostle, situated a short distance be¬ 
yond the walls of the city, on the Ostian way. 
The ride on the electric train was for the most 
part through an uninteresting section of the 
city and suburbs—in fact, nothing worse could 
scarcely be imagined. The immediate surround¬ 
ings of the church are but little better, but these 
unpleasant minor details were quickly forgotten 
on entering the edifice itself. The present 
church is the third magnificent basilica erected 
over the tomb of St. Paul, the great Apostle of 
the Gentiles, who suffered martyrdom at Aquae 
Salvias (TreFontane), the road to which branches 
to the left of the Ostian Way, a little beyond St. 
Paul’s. It is some two miles from the Cathedral 
and about six or seven miles from the Roman 
Forum. St. Jerome, St. John Chrysostom and 
other early writers say that because of his dig¬ 
nity as a Roman citizen, he was not crucified like 
St. Peter, but beheaded. The head of the Apos¬ 
tle, when severed, is said to have made three 
leaps or bounds, and at each spot where it alight¬ 
ed there burst up a fountain of clear water— 
whence the name Tre Fontane. 



Italy. 


257 


The remains of the noble champion of Christ 
were conveyed reverently to a grave in the vine¬ 
yard of the Roman lady Lucina, near the Ostian 
Way,where a memorial chapel was erected,which 
stood for two and a half centuries, till Constan¬ 
tine replaced it by his basilica, in A. D. 324 or 
326. The edifice was much smaller than St. Pe¬ 
ter’s, but rivalled it in richness and splendor. 
The nave was separated from the aisles by two 
rows of noble columns, which are said to have 
been taken from the Basilica Aemilia, in the 
Forum. The chancel arch and the vault of the 
apse glowed with rich mosaics, and in ornaments 
of gold, silver and bronze, the Emperor wished 
it to be not inferior to St. Peter’s. He enclosed 
the body of the Apostle in a bronze sarcophagus, 
and over it he placed a cross of solid gold weigh¬ 
ing one hundred and fifty pounds, like the one 
he had laid on St. Peter’s tomb. 

The basilica of Constantine lasted but a short 
period. It was found to be too small for the 
large numbers who frequented it, and contrasted 
unfavorably with St. Peter’s. Theodosius the 
Great and the Emperors Valentine II., Arcadius 
and Honorius reared on the site of the former 
church the new St. Paul’s, which stood for fif¬ 
teen centuries, until destroyed in the disastrous 
conflagration of July 15, 1823. All the wealth 
and resources of these masters of the world were 
employed in the construction and dedication of 
a temple that made it a marvel for all time. The 


258 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

interior consisted of a broad nave and four aisles, 
divided by four rows of marble Corinthian col¬ 
umns, surmounted by a fine roof of open wood¬ 
work, formed of numerous beams and rafters of 
pine. Altogether, there were one hundred and 
thirty-eight pillars of white marble, pavonazzo 
and porphyry, forming a collection that was 
unique in the world. The interior walls were 
covered with marble. The central nave termi¬ 
nated in the immense arch, still existing, sup¬ 
ported by two colossal Ionic columns of Greek 
marble, which Galla Placidia, sister of the Em¬ 
peror Theodosius had decorated with mosaics in 
A. D. 440. Beneath this arch was the Confes¬ 
sion, or tomb of the Apostle, whose body lay en¬ 
closed in Constantine’s bronze sarcophagus, with¬ 
in an outer one of marble. The paintings which 
adorned the walls above the arches dated from 
the fifth and tenth centuries. The pavement was 
of rich Alexandrian mosaics and antique inscrip¬ 
tions, and the panels were fitted to the frieze, 
where from age to age they represented the long, 
unbroken and unequaled line of reigning pon¬ 
tiffs from St. Sylvester, 314, to Pius VII., 1823. 
The grandeur and magnificence of the Theodo- 
sian Basilica, which made it one of the wonders 
of the ecclesiastical world, were doomed to al¬ 
most total annihilation in the memorable fire of 
July 13, 1823, the night before the death of Pius 
VII. The Pope had been a monk in St. Paul’s 
before he was made Bishop of Imola, and his at- 


Italy. 


259 

tendants contrived to hide from him the news of 
the terrible disaster. Through the gross negli¬ 
gence of some workmen employed to make cer¬ 
tain repairs, the roof caught fire, and the dry 
beams and rafters, blazing fiercely, crashed down 
into the nave and aisles, where the flames raged 
with such fury that all the priceless marble col¬ 
umns surrounding the Apostle’s tomb split into 
fragments. Frescoes, marbles, mosaics, monu¬ 
ments, nearly all perished. The only portion that 
survived the fury of the devouring element was 
the western facade, with its mosaics of the thir¬ 
teenth century, the great arch of Galla Placidia, 
with its splendid mosaics of the fifth century, 
the mosaics of the apse of the thirteenth century, 
some of the mosaic portraits of the Popes, and a 
few ancient monuments. 

After the disastrous conflagration, Leo XII. 
ordered a reconstruction of the basilica on the 
same scale, copying the last St. Paul’s from mem¬ 
ory. The whole world eagerly enlisted in the 
work of restoration. Schismatical Russia offered 
the two altars of priceless malachites at either 
end of the transept Mahomet brought as a trib¬ 
ute to the sanctuary of Christ four columns of 
Oriental alabaster presented by the Sultan; gold, 
silver and jewels poured in from every side. 
Hence the porticos of veined Greek marble, the 
pilasters taken from the quartz of the Simplon, 
the walls of Carrara framed with gems of varied 
hues; the entablature of Paros, with its violet 



260 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

frieze, the enormous capitals, so lavish in size, 
so delicate in execution. On December io, 1854, 
the superb edifice was completed and solemnly 
consecrated by Pius IX., in presence of 185 pre¬ 
lates, including cardinals, archbishops and bish¬ 
ops asembled in Rome for the proclamation of 
the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception. 

After the spoliation of the Holy See, in 1870^ 
the usurping Italian Government confiscated this 
gem of modern art, and the funds still remaining 
for its completion, and, although the magnificent 
stained-glass windows were shattered by the ex¬ 
plosion of a powder magazine in 1871, not a 
single cent of the sequestered money has been 
spent to repair the damage. 

The view of the interior of St. Paul’s, seen 
from the western door, is inexpressibly grand, its 
magnificence rivalling St. Peter’s itself. The 
walls of the nave and side aisles are carried by 
eighty immense granite pillars, divided into four 
rows of twenty columns each—each column a 
solid block of stone, highly polished, and about 
sixty feet in height. It is doubtful if such an im¬ 
posing array of monoliths is equaled anywhere 
else on earth. The ceiling is of finely carved 
woodwork, coffered and decorated in heavy gold 
leaf, with white tinting. The walls fairly glis¬ 
ten with their rich marble covering, and the 
brilliant mirror-like stone pavement reflects the 
highest development of modern art. 


































Italy. 


261 

The centre of all this glory, however, the price¬ 
less jewel encased in this magnificent casket, is 
the tomb of the Apostle, the chosen vessel of elec¬ 
tion, the fearless champion of Jesus Christ be¬ 
fore all the world. It lies directly beneath the 
high altar, which has a Gothic canopy resting 
on four columns of red porphyry; this again is 
surmounted by a baldacchino, upheld by four 
rare pillars of pure alabaster, the gift of Ma¬ 
homet Ali of Egypt to Gregory XVI.; the pan¬ 
eling of the altar is of malachite, a rare green 
marble, the gift of the Emperor of Russia, more 
valuable than its weight in pure gold, for the 
supply, it is said, has long since been exhausted. 

Kneeling reverently in front of the tomb of the 
great Apostle, which is surmounted by golden 
lamps, perpetually burning, we are reminded of 
the words of St. John Chrysostom: “Show me 
the tomb of Alexander; tell me the day of his 
death. You cannot. Yet the glorious body of 
Paul may be seen by anyone who will visit the 
royal city, and the exact day of his death is 
known to the whole world. The deeds of Alex¬ 
ander are forgotten even by his own nation; 
those of Paul are known even by barbarians, and 
the tomb of the servant of Christ is more glori¬ 
ous than the palaces of kings. 

And again: “Who will grant me the privilege 
to embrace the body of Paul, to fix my eyes on 
his tomb, to see the dust of his mouth—that 


* Homil. 26 in 2 Cor. 



262 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

mouth with which he spoke before kings, with 
which he silenced tyrants and made the whole 
world draw nearer to God!—the dust of his 
heart, that heart which was capacious enough to 
embrace whole cities, peoples, nations!—the dust 
of his hands, those hands which were fastened 
with chains, and with which he wrote his Epis¬ 
tles!—the dust of those feet, which traversed the 
universe and were not weary.”* 

St. John Lateran. 

Of the five great churches of Rome—St. Pe¬ 
ter's, St. Paul’s, St. Lawrence, St. John Lateran, 
and Santa Maria Maggiore—all but the last are 
known as the Constantine Basilicas, so called be¬ 
cause they owe their original foundations to the 
piety and munificence of the first Christian Ro¬ 
man Emperor. Of these, St. John Lateran easily 
surpasses in importance, prestige and dignity, if 
not in magnificence, all the others. It is the 
Pope's Cathedral, the first among all the 
churches of the Eternal City and of the world. 
The inscription which arrests the eye of the vis¬ 
itor when he stands before the imposing facade 
of the great edifice proclaims it to be “the 
Mother and Head of all the churches of the city 
and of the world.” From the days of St. Sylves¬ 
ter, A. D. 314, to Leo XIII., 1878, every Pope, 
when elected, came here to be crowned and to be 


* Homil. in Rom. Homilia 4 in 2 Tim. 






Italy. 


263' 


solemnly enthroned as the successor of St. Peter. 
Owing to the intolerable condition created by 
the occupation of Rome by the present usurping 
government, the ancient custom had to be dis¬ 
pensed with at the election of the last two sov¬ 
ereign Pontiffs, whose formal investiture took 
place at St. Peter’s. Its canonical clergy invari¬ 
ably take precedence over the chapter of the 
latter at all public functions. The pre-eminent 
dignity which it enjoys is due to the fact that it 
was the first Christian Church publicly conse¬ 
crated in Rome, and the first of the five great 
basilicas erected by Constantine after the eman¬ 
cipation of Christianity. It derives its name, 
Lateran, from the rich patrician, Lateran, whose 
palace formerly stood on the site of the present 
edifice. 

In A. D. 312 Constantine won his epoch-mak¬ 
ing victory over Maxentius at the Milvian 
Bridge, a short distance beyond the walls of 
Rome. Whilst advancing into Italy to meet his 
rival for the Imperial throne, he and his whole 
army beheld in the skies a luminous cross, shin¬ 
ing with great brilliancy, just above the sun, and 
over it the words: a In this sign shalt thou con¬ 
quer.” The cross became the sign or symbol that 
was to marshal his hosts to victory. He caused a 
representation of it to be made and carried as a 
standard, known as the “Labarum,” before his 
army, and under this standard he inflicted a 
crushing defeat on Maxentius and his forces on 


18 


264 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

October 12, Maxentius perishing in the fray. 
Entering Rome in triumph, Constantine chose 
the Lateran palace for his imperial residence, 
and proceeded to annul the savage laws against 
the Christians, though he was not baptized till a 
little before his death. 

The Church, after a persecution unparalleled 
in the annals of man, was at last free to emerge 
from the catacombs, and one of the first acts of 
Constantine, in gratitude for his success, was to 
present the Lateran palace to Pope St. Mel- 
chiades to be used as a papal residence. On Oc¬ 
tober 2, 313, the Pope here presided at the first 
Council assembled against the Donatists. 

A few years after his conversion, Constantine 
began to erect a Christian basilica in one part of 
the Lateran palace, assisting in the work, it is 
said, with his own hands. It was solemnly con¬ 
secrated by Pope St. Sylvester, Nov. 9, 324, in 
honor of our Blessed Saviour,whence it is known 
as the basilica of the Saviour. Its other titles 
are Lateran Basilica, Basilica of Constantine, St. 
John Lateran, from its being dedicated to St. 
John the Baptist by Sergius III. Later St. John 
the Evangelist was made tutelary patron along 
with St. John the Baptist. 

The magnificence and grandeur of the ancient 
Basilica of Constantine almost baffles descrip¬ 
tion. So rich and splendid was the interior that 
it was commonly spoken of as the Basilica Aurea 
“The Golden Basilica.” Early mediaeval writers 



INTERIOR BASILICA OF ST. JOHN LATERAN—ROME. 












































Italy. 


265 


dilate on the splendor and brilliancy of the in¬ 
terior on festivals, when the whole basilica 
seemed a mass of light gleaming on polished 
pillar, gilded roof and ornaments of gold and 
silver. 

All of this magnificence came to an end when 
after ten centuries the Church and the Lateran 
palace adjoining were burned to the ground in 
1308. It was rebuilt and restored, only to 
be burned a second time in 1360. The pres¬ 
ent edifice is the third that has stood on 
the site of the original basilica. In design 
it more closely resembles the modern, renais¬ 
sance architecture of St. Peter’s than that of 
the old Constantine churches. As at the Vatican, 
there is a vast portico with thePorta Santa at the 
extremity, and five other entrances, of which the 
central one in bronze is said to come from the 
Aemilian basilica; at the end of the gallery rises 
a colossal statue of Constantine, the only au¬ 
thentic likeness of that emperor. The interior 
consists of a broad nave with rich mosaic pave¬ 
ment, a spacious transcept, and a noble tribune 
or sanctuary. The nave is of grand proportions 
and impressive appearance, butsomewhatspoiled 
by the architect Borromini, who imprisoned the 
fine columns of granite in enormous pieces of 
brick and plaster with the exception of the two 
near the Sanctuary. In these pilasters are niches 
which contain statues of heroic size of the twelve 
Apostles together with St. Paul. Beneath the 


266 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


great transept arch stands the magnificent high 
altar with its superb Gothic canopy by Arnolfo 
del Cambio of the fourteenth century. This is 
known as a Papal Altar on which the Pope alone 
can say Mass. The altar encloses one of Rome’s 
most precious relics—the wooden portable altar 
used by St. Peter in the house of Pudens, and by 
the first Popes in the catacombs. Above the 
altar are preserved in busts, said to be of gold, 
the heads of Sts. Peter and Paul. The mosaics 
of the apse date from the twelfth century, whilst 
the mosaic figure of Christ in the upper part of 
the vault was executed according to De Rossi in 
the fourth or fifth century. 

In a corner to the right of the right transept 
is seen the Turkish standard captured by the 
Polish king, John Sobieski at the battle of 
Vienna, 1673, when he raised the siege of that 
city and routed the followers of Mahomet, who 
lost in that fiercely contested conflict more than 
28,000 men. 

At the end of the left transept is the altar of 
the Blessed Sacrament, richly adorned with mar¬ 
bles and bronzes. The four superb columns of 
gilt bronze are said to have belonged to the 
palace of Constantine. An ancient tradition as¬ 
serts that they were brought from Jerusalem by 
Titus. 

The successive basilicas known as St. John 
Lateran enjoy a distinction shared by no other 
edifice in the world, for in them have assembled 



Italy. 


267 


five general councils of the Church, before the 
divisions of Western Christianity that began 
with the revolt of Luther, viz. : First Lateran 
Council in 1123; second, in 1139; third, in 1179; 
fourth, in 1215; fifth, in 1512. 

St. Mary Major. 

At the end of the Via Quattero Fontane, and 
facing the Piazzo d’Esquiline, stands the great 
basilica dedicated to the Blessed Virgin under 
the name of St. Mary the Greater. It is so called 
because it ranks above all the other churches of 
Our Lady in Rome, and, after Loretto, in the 
entire world. Originally it was called the Li¬ 
berian basilica after Pope Liberius who conse¬ 
crated it A. D. 360. It is also known as Our 
Lady of the Snow, because of the traditional 
legend to which it owes its origin. The church, 
as it stands, is perhaps the most ancient of the 
basilicas of Rome, as it escaped the numerous 
vicissitudes which overtook in course of cen¬ 
turies its great sister basilicas. Its enlagement 
was undertaken by Pope Sixtus in, 432-440, 
who intended it as an enduring memorial to the 
great Council of Ephesus in which the title of 
the Blessed Virgin to the dignity of Mother of 
God was vindicated against the blasphemies of 
Nestorius. Although the facade and the ad¬ 
joining Papal residence are comparatively 
modern, and somewhat mar the external effect, 


268 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the interior is so vast, rich, and impressive as 
to justify its claim to be ranked amongst the 
noblest religious edifices in the world. The 
long nave with its two rows of imposing columns 
of solid granite, twenty in each row, and every 
one a monolith, comes down to us untouched 
from the days of Sixtus hi. “The first gold 
brought from America and presented to Alex¬ 
ander VI by Ferdinand and Isabella gilds the 
profusely decorated roof; the dark red polished 
porphyry pillars of the high altar gleam in the 
warm hazeof light;the endless polished columns 
rise in shining ranks; all in gold, marble and 
colors.”* 

Under the high altar which has a superb 
canopy supported by four columns of red por¬ 
phyry, in a crypt where golden lamps are per¬ 
petually burning, lies the precious relic of the 
manger of the Babe of Bethlehem. Before it 
is seen in a kneeling attitude a life-like figure 
of the late Pope Pius IX., a work of exquisite 
beauty and challenging the admiration of the be¬ 
holder. It was his wish to be buried here, but 
after the invasion of Rome in 1870, he decided to 
be interred among the poor at San Lorenzo. 

St. Mary Major is renowned, not only for its 
own intrinsic beauty, but also because it contains 
two wondrously magnificent chapels, one of 
which, the famous Borghese, ranks as the finest 
in Rome, if not in the world. On the right the 


* Marion Crawford, Ave Roma Immortalis. 


































Italy. 


269 


large chapel that dazzles the visitor with its 
splendor is the Sixtino, named after Pope Sixtus 
V., who erected it in 1589. The walls fairly 
gleam with the lustre of precious marbles and 
noble sculptures, whilst the frescoed dome is 
adorned with the finest masterpieces of the 
painter’s brush. 

The chapel in the left aisle which stands out 
pre-eminently amongst its fellows is the far 
famed Borghese—the creation of Paul V. of the 
family of that name. Words are inadequate to 
describe the gorgeousness of this masterpiece of 
decorative and ecclesiastical art. The altar and 
screens are inlaid with the largest panels of lapis 
lazuli—or precious blue marble—that are to be 
found perhaps anywhere in the world. The 
pillars supporting the baldachino over the high 
altar are solid monoliths of purest alabaster, also 
one of the rarest of costly marbles. “The splen¬ 
dor of the entire edifice,” says Nathaniel Haw¬ 
thorne, “is intensified and gathered to a focus. 
Unless words were gems that would flame with 
many colored light upon the page, and throw 
thence a tremulous glimmer into the reader’s 
eyes, it were vain to attempt a description of this 
princely chapel.” As a general statement, it 
may be safely affirmed that one who has never 
visited Rome would find it almost impossible to 
conceive the richness of its churches, their superb 
frescoes, the walls and altars lined with every 
variety of precious marbles and bronzes of the 


270 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


highest degree of workmanship. They all tes¬ 
tify to the supremacy of Italian art which knows 
no rival in the entire world. 

San Lorenzo. 

A short ride by trolley beyond the city’s walls 
brings one to the Church of St. Lawrence, situ¬ 
ated beside the Campo Santo, or public ceme¬ 
tery, and renowned as another of the great Con¬ 
stantine basilicas. It is also distinguished as the 
last resting place of the late Pope Pius IX. The 
church, erected by the first Christian Emperor 
over the tomb of the illustrious Roman archdea¬ 
con and martyr, of which only the choir and 
sanctuary survive, was begun shortly after the 
completion of the Lateran and Vatican basilicas. 
The story of the Christian fortitude and heroic 
death of the holy martyr is well known. In the 
days when the Emperor Valerian was issuing 
his bloody edicts against the followers of Christ, 
there sat in the chair of St. Peter an old man, a 
native of Athens, venerated as St. Sixtus; he was 
put to death in 259, as his predecessor St. Ste¬ 
phen had been two years before. 

As he was led to execution, the young deacon, 
Lawrence, followed close behind, and cried to 
him with many tears: “Will you go without your 
son? Shall I not help you once more in this last 
sacrifice?” “My son,” replied the old man, 
“thou shalt rejoin me in three days.” 


Italy. 


271 


Sixtus had entrusted to him the treasures of 
the church, and as he was being led to martyr¬ 
dom he bade the holy deacon sell the sacred ves¬ 
sels and divide the proceeds among the poor. 
After the death of the bishop the prefect called 
on St. Lawrence to deliver up the riches of the 
church. He pleaded for some hours in which to 
collect them, and finally reappeared with a 
crowd of beggars in his train. “Behold,” he 
said, “the treasures of the Church of Christ!” 

Enraged at this reply, which the Pagan pre¬ 
fect could not rightly understand, he ordered 
that the young deacon should be beaten with 
rods, and afterwards stretched bleeding over a 
gridiron heated red-hot by live coals. Fortified 
by strength from above, the heroic martyr not 
only bore his atrocious suffering with sublime 
resignation and courage, but even jested with his 
tormenters, telling them that now, having been 
thoroughly roasted on one side, they might turn 
him over on the other. 

The day following his martyrdom the young 
saint’s charred remains were borne reverently to 
the Veran estate of the noble matron Cyriaca, 
where they were solemnly interred. Constantine 
erected a noble basilica over his tomb, which 
was left undisturbed, the high altar being 
placed immediately over it. In the early part 
of the seventh century a second and a larger 
church was built adjoining that of Constantine, 
and in the thirteenth century Honorius III. con- 


272 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


nected the two edifices, giving the building its 
present somewhat irregular form. The second 
church thus became the present long nave, whilst 
Constantine’s church was converted into the 
raised choir and sanctuary, the spaces beneath 
being filled with earth to the level of the raised 
choir. The same Pope also added the entrance 
porch, carried by six ancient columns, with an 
architrave in which are mosaics in an excellent 
state of preservation. The raised sanctuary or 
choir, approached by two flights of steps on each 
side of the Confession, corresponds, as has been 
said, to the nave of the Church of Constantine, 
with its twelve splendid columns of pavonazzo, 
two of the columns bearing trophies, its rich en¬ 
tablature formed of antique fragments, joined 
together without uniformity; its gallery sup¬ 
ported by twelve smaller pillars. The nave is 
grand and imposing. Twenty-two majestic col¬ 
umns of solid granite, about fifteen feet in cir¬ 
cumference, support the timbered roof, the ceil¬ 
ing of which is richly decorated in blue and gold. 
The sanctuary and choir have an ancient Epis¬ 
copal chair, a rich mosaic screen, paneled in 
porphyry and serpentine. The high altar stands 
beneath a canopy resting on four columns of por¬ 
phyry. In the crypt beneath repose the bodies of 
St. Lawrence and St. Stephen, the proto-martyr. 
The chapel which contains the tomb of Pius 
IX. is covered with rich mosaics and lined with 


Italy. 


273 

precious marbles, the gifts of devout Catholics 
throughout the world. 

The Campo Santo adjoining is well worth a 
visit, as it contains some splendid examples of 
mortuary art, though it cannot be compared in 
magnificence with that of Genoa. 

St. Peter in Chains. 

Another day’s sightseeing in Rome began with 
a visit to the Church of St. Peter in Chains, 
whither I went for a twofold purpose—to ven¬ 
erate the relics of the great Apostle which are 
preserved there, and to see the colossal figure of 
“Moses,” Michael Angelo’s most powerful cre¬ 
ation, and one of the world’s greatest master¬ 
pieces. The edifice is very ancient, having orig¬ 
inally been built in 442, during the pontificate of 
Leo the Great, by Eudoxia, daughter of Theodo¬ 
sius the younger, and wife of Valentinian III., 
but the interior is rich and impressive. In a 
crypt under the high altar, with lights perpetu¬ 
ally burning before them, are the chains with 
which St. Peter was bound whilst a prisoner in 
Jerusalem, and also the chains with which he 
was fettered whilst in the Mamertine prison in 
Rome awaiting execution. The authenticity of 
these hallowed souvenirs has been established 
beyond question. Meeting one of the priests 
attached to the church, I asked for the privilege 
of viewing the sacred relics. Descending to the 



274 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

crypt, he lighted two candles on the altar, and 
after kneeling in prayer and reciting a psalm, he 
opened with a key the doors behind which were 
inclosed in a glass case richly gilded the precious 
relics. The chains were of normal size, with 
clasps large enough to encircle the wrists and 
ankles of a full-grown man. As I knelt in rever 
ence, contemplating the hallowed relics, I could 
not help contrasting the apparent hopelessness of 
the condition of this great confessor of the Faith 
with the might and power of Pagan and Impe¬ 
rial Rome. How marvelous an example of tri¬ 
umph in defeat! The Caesars are gone, and the 
religion of Jesus Christ endures, and whilst his 
brutal oppressors rest in unknown graves, the 
valiant champion of his Master lies entombed, in 
the Imperial City, in the grandest structure ever 
reared by the hand of man, and the instruments 
of his suffering are venerated by thousands from 
every part of the world. Christ lives, Christ 
conquers, Christ reigns! 

The statue of Moses, by Michael Angelo, for 
which the Church is also justly celebrated, is 
said to be the greatest masterpiece of sculpture 
since the time of the Greeks. It is full of gran¬ 
deur, power and expression. The figure, colos¬ 
sal in size, is seated, with long flowing beard de¬ 
scending to the waist, with horned head and deep 
sunk eyes, “which blaze, as it were, with the 
light of the burning bush and with a majesty of 
anger that makes one tremble.’ 1 Under his right 


Italy. 


275 


arm he holds the Tables of the Law, and casts a 
look of withering anger on the people whom he 
sees worshiping the golden calf. 

This world-renowned work of art was origi¬ 
nally designed for the tomb of Pope Julius IT. 
(della Rovere), and was to be placed in the nave 
of the great basilica of St. Peter, but by some 
strange fatality the intention was never carried 
out. 

Santa Croce. 

No church in Rome, or perhaps elsewhere, 
possesses a deeper interest for the devout Chris¬ 
tian than the basilica of the Holy Cross, for 
within its hallowed precincts are treasured the 
most precious relics in the world—those of the 
Passion of the Redeemer of Mankind. The orig¬ 
inal edifice was founded by St. Helena, the moth¬ 
er of Constantine, to shelter the sacred instru¬ 
ments of Our Lord’s sufferings, which she her¬ 
self at the age of more than eighty years jour¬ 
neyed to Jerusalem to procure. The story of the 
finding of the precious relics is well known to all 
readers of ecclesiastical history. Over the site 
of the Holy Sepulchre the Pagan Emperor Had¬ 
rian, to show his contempt for Christianity, had 
erected a statue of Jupiter. This was pulled 
down and removed in accordance with the orders 
of St. Helena. After digging to a great depth, 
the Holy Sepulchre was found, and near it three 
crosses, the nails which had pierced the hands 



276 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

and feet of our Saviour, and the title or inscrip¬ 
tion which had been affixed to the cross. A mir¬ 
acle revealed to the holy woman which of the 
three crosses was that on which the Redeemer 
died, and filled with joy and thanksgiving at the 
success of her pious labors, she caused to be 
erected on the spot a magnificent basilica, in 
which she placed the Holy Cross, enclosed in a 
rich silver case. A part of it, however, she took 
to the Emperor Constantine, and another part 
she brought to Rome to be placed in this Church 
of the Holy Cross, which she had erected for the 
purpose. The church has been restored and re¬ 
built several times since its original foundation, 
until at the present time nothing is left of the old 
edifice except the subterranean chapel of St. 
Helena, the pillars of the nave, and a part of the 
mosaic floor. 

To have obtained a view of these sacred relics 
I consider the greatest privilege of my life. A 
monk attached to the church conducted me to 
the crypt, where, after the recitation of pre¬ 
scribed prayers, he unlocked the receptacle 
where they are kept and allowed me to kiss rev¬ 
erently the glass of the reliquaries containing 
them. The precious relics, as I saw them, con¬ 
sisted of the largest piece of the true cross known 
to exist, one of the sacred nails, the inscription 
placed over the head of our Lord, written in 
Latin, Hebrew and Greek, a piece of the column 
of the Scourging, two of the thorns that pierced 


Italy. 


277 


the brow of the suffering Redeemer, and two 
pieces of the winding sheet in which he was 
buried. In addition, there is shown a large piece 
of the cross on which died the good thief. The 
sight of these inestimable memorials of God's 
love for man stirred my emotions to the very 
depths of my being, and have left upon my mind 
an impression which I hope will never fade. 

The holy places of Rome are so closely found 
together that it is only a short walk from this 
church to the sanctuary of the Scala Santa, or 
Holy Stairs, which adjoins the Lateran palace 
and basilica. 

The Holy Stairs consist of twenty-eight mar¬ 
ble steps, which tradition states to have been 
those of Pilate’s palace, and to have been as¬ 
cended and descended by Our Saviour in His 
Passion. They are said to have been brought 
from Jerusalem in 326 by St. Helena, mother of 
Constantine, and have been regarded with great 
reverence for 1300 years. They are covered 
with wood, but with glass plates let into the 
woodwork over the place trod by the blessed feet 
of the Redeemer. I made the ascent on mv 
knees, and consider the experience the most se¬ 
vere penance I have ever performed. 

At the head of the Holy Stairs may be seen 
through an iron grating the chapel, “Sancta 
Sanctorum,” or Holy of Holies, the private ora¬ 
tory of the Popes before 1308, and containing 
many precious relics, amongst them the cele- 


278 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

brated portrait of Christ, “painted not by mor¬ 
tal hand.” 


The Catacombs. 

The underground cemeteries outside the walls 
of Rome, known as the Catacombs, where thou¬ 
sands of Christian martyrs and confessors were 
buried during the long era of Pagan persecution, 
possess features of such archaeological, histori¬ 
cal and ecclesiastical interest that no visit to the 
Eternal City would be complete without at least 
a glimpse of them. Amongst the fifty or more 
that have been explored, the best known and 
most accessible is that of St. Callistus, named 
after the Pope who in the third century, whilst 
still a deacon, was appointed superintendent of 
the works at this cemetery, which he enlarged 
and beautiful, though he was not himself buried 
here. He suffered martyrdom near Santa Ma¬ 
ria in Trastevere, and was buried in the cemetery 
of Calepodius, whence his body was transplanted 
to S. Maria Trastevere in 824. 

This Catacomb is situated on the far-famed Ap- 
pian Way, the highway over which marched the 
Roman Legions in their conquest of the world. 
I must confess to a feeling of bitter disappoint¬ 
ment as I went along this route. There is abso¬ 
lutely nothing to suggest great historical mem¬ 
ories in this narrow, dusty, ill-kept road. A 
more prosaic, uninteresting country thorough- 


Italy. 


279 


fare could scarcely be imagined. On the way I 
stopped to see the little church built along the 
roadside, and dedicated to St. Peter, which is 
known to fame as the church of “Quo Vadis.” 
Sienkiewicz, the greatest of living Polish novel¬ 
ists, has made this insignificant church, with its 
poor, tawdry decorations, the keynote of his fa¬ 
mous masterpiece. Entering, I stood and lis¬ 
tened respectfully to the beautiful legend as told 
in soft Italian by the humble janitress. St. Am¬ 
brose, the Archbishop of Milan, who lived in 
the fourth century, narrates that during the first 
great persecution under Nero, A. D. 65, the 
Christian converts, alarmed for the safety of St. 
Peter, besought him to seek a place of refuge by 
withdrawing from Rome until the fury of the 
storm was spent, as the infant Church could ill 
afford the loss of its chief pastor and guide at so 
critical a period in its existence. Heeding their 
entreaties after much hesitation, he left the city 
by night and fled along the Appian Way. Sud¬ 
denly he was startled by a vision of his Divine 
Master, who was walking towards the city. 
“Lord,” he said, “whither goest Thou?” ( Do- 
mine, quo vadis ?) Casting a look of sadness and 
compassion on the frightened Apostle, Christ 
replied, “I go to Rome to be crucified again,” 
and vanished. St. Peter, realizing his weakness 
and lack of courage, returned at once to the city, 
where he was soon after apprehended and cast 
into prison. 


19 


280 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


After a tiresome and dusty ride, I arrived at 
the entrance to the grounds on which the Cata¬ 
comb is situated. Several Trappist monks came 
forward to extend a welcome, and one of them 
kindly volunteered to be my guide. Having lit 
our candles, we descended about thirty feet, and 
began to explore the subterranean galleries. The 
experience was most weird and interesting, as in 
a few moments we found ourselves transported 
back nearly two thousand years in time. More 
than twelve miles of galleries have thus far been 
uncovered, which run in all directions and fre¬ 
quently cross one another so as to form a genuine 
labyrinth. 

As more than a day would be required to visit 
the entire Catacomb, only the most artistic and 
historical sections were shown by the guide, who 
pointed out the burial places of several of the 
early Popes who were martyred for the Faith, 
as also the primitive frescoes and inscriptions to 
be seen on the walls of the underground chapels. 
The most interesting feature, perhaps, is the 
crypt of St. Cecilia, where her body was found 
after seven hundred years in an almost perfect 
state of preservation; from here are entered the 
galleries of the noble Roman family, Cecilie, of 
which she was a member. Nearby are several 
second-century patrician tombs, known as the 
“Chapels of the Sacraments,” as their walls are 
covered with frescoes alluding to the principal 
sacraments of the Catholic Church. The stone 


Italy. 


281. 

coffins or sarcophagi were also shown, contain¬ 
ing human remains, probably those of martyrs, 
who were interred about 1800 years ago. It was 
a strange and almost uncanny experience to find 
myself gazing on the crumbling bones of our 
brethren in the Faith who gladly gave their 
lives that the religion of Jesus Christ might not 
perish from the earth. Centuries have passed 
since they yielded up the fullest measure of their 
devotion, but the cause for which they died tri¬ 
umphed over the mighty forces set for its de¬ 
struction, and their memories are forever en¬ 
shrined in the hearts of the faithful. 

Sta. Maria Trastevere—St. Cecilia. 

Returning to the light of day from these un¬ 
derground abodes of the hallowed, dead Past and 
bidding the good father adieu, I journeyed back 
to the city to visit the titular church of His 
Eminence Cardinal Gibbons, “St. Mary’s Across 
the Tiber.” The neighborhood of the church is 
far from inviting—dirty, narrow, crooked, ill¬ 
smelling streets, bordered by old and dingy 
houses, and congested with a motley population, 
quite disillusioned me. The condition of the 
poorer classes in Rome could scarcely be worse, 
at least from an economic standpoint, and con¬ 
stitutes a crushing indictment of the new regime 
in the Eternal City—the usurping Italian Gov¬ 
ernment—which has squandered more than eight 





282 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


millions of dollars on a colossal memorial to 
Victor Emanuel, on the Capitoline Hill, thus 
glorifying robbery, injustice and sacrilege, 
whilst within a stone’s throw of this monument 
to national extravagance dwell thousands of peo¬ 
ple in poverty, squalor and ignorance. Under 
the Popes these conditions were exploited before 
the world by the enemies of the Papacy in their 
efforts to discredit it, but now under the present 
Free-Masonic government, when the shades of 
the picture are perhaps even darker than ever 
before, not a voice is raised, nor a line allowed 
to be officially printed concerning the deplor¬ 
able condition of these masses of the Roman 
proletariat. 

The Church of St. Mary Across the Tiber is 
one of the most venerable of all the Christian 
edifices in Rome. Its history reaches back even 
beyond the time of Constantine, for upon its site 
stood a building during the reign of Emperor 
Alexander Severus, which was used as a place of 
assembly by the Christians in the age of persecu¬ 
tion. The present church was erected by Inno¬ 
cent II. in 1140, and dedicated by Innocent III. 
in 1198. The exterior, like most Italian tem¬ 
ples, is not particularly striking, but the interior 
is beautiful and impressive, and well deserves 
its rank as one of the minor basilicas of Rome. 
The nave is divided from the aisles by twenty- 
two granite columns of unequal sizes, support¬ 
ing a richly decorated architrave. The splendid 



INTERIOR OF TIIE CHURCH OF SANTA MARIA IN TRASTEVERE—ROME. 


































Italy. 


283 

pavement is one of the richest in Rome, and a 
masterpiece of mosaic workmanship. The finely 
decorated ceiling includes a beautiful painting 
of the Assumption by Domenichino. The high 
altar, dating from the twelfth century, and a 
work of art, is crowned by an arcaded canopy 
resting on four columns of porphyry. 

On entering the church I was cordially greeted 
by the sacristan, who volunteered to act as guide 
for my inspection of the historic edifice. 
Amongst the rare objects of interest pointed out 
were the beautiful mosaics of the apse, dating 
from the reign of Innocent II., and the seven 
exquisite mosaic pictures illustrating subjects 
from the life of the Blessed Virgin attributed to 
Pietro Cavallini, of the thirteenth century. 

In the sacristy, besides a masterpiece by Peru- 
gino of Our Lady with St. Roch and St. Sebas¬ 
tian, I was delighted to see hanging from the 
walls a splendid portrait in oil of His Eminence 
Cardinal Gibbons, the titular of this grand old 
church. Having informed my guide that Bal¬ 
timore was my native place, and the Cardinal my 
ecclesiastical superior, he appeared agreeably 
surprised, and at once launched into a glowing 
eulogy of His Eminence, who, he declared, was 
a remarkable man, one of the greatest in the 
Church, and highly esteemed in Rome. He had 
no hesitation in saying that if the venerable met¬ 
ropolitan of Baltimore were an Italian, he would 
undoubtedly have been chosen Pope. He ended 


284 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

his eloquent tribute by inviting me to sit in the 
Cardinal’s official chair. 

Another ancient and famous basilica in Tras- 
tevere, not far from St. Mary’s, is that of St. 
Cecilia, virgin and martyr, the titular church of 
Cardinal Rampolla, the widely known Secretary 
of State of His Holiness, the late Leo XIII. 
Originally the family mansion of the saint, it 
was converted into a church by St. Urban in 230, 
in accordance with her dying request. Since 
that distant epoch it has undergone many trans¬ 
formations, which have deprived it of much of 
its ancient impressive character. In one of the 
side chapels is still preserved the Caldarium, or 
bathroom, where St. Cecilia was martyred, with 
the original pipes along the walls for conveying 
the steam from the boiler. The marble slab on 
the altar is the one on which she was beheaded 
by the executioners, and above it is an exquisite 
painting of her martyrdom by Guido Reni. On 
the opposite wall is another masterpiece by Do- 
menichino, representing an angel crowning St. 
Cecilia and her young betrothed, Valerian. 

After the execution her remains were trans¬ 
ferred to the Catacombs of St. Callistus, where 
they lay buried and unknown for more than 600 
years. They were finally recovered through a 
vision, and reinterred by Pope Paschal I., 817, 
under the high altar of the present church. 

Nearly 800 years later, 1599, during certain 
alterations in the basilica undertaken at the re- 


Italy. 


285 


quest of Cardinal Sfondrati, the titular at that 
time, the coffin containing the remains was 
opened and the body found in a state of perfect 
preservation. Three hundred years later, 1899- 
1900, Cardinal Rampolla, at his own expense, 
caused extensive restorations to be made of the 
church and the crypt, and the result of his 
princely generosity and piety is seen in the mag¬ 
nificent underground chapel which enshrines the 
body of the sainted martyr. My guide pointed 
out the remains of the house of the holy virgin, 
which were found beneath the nave of the pres¬ 
ent basilica during the course of the excavations 
which were made in the crypt. The tesselated 
pavement, more than 2,000 years old, is well pre¬ 
served in some of the rooms, and many valuable 
fragments of sculpture found in the ruins may be 
seen on the walls. 

The Pantheon. 

Christianity and Paganism, the mighty con¬ 
testants for supremacy in the world’s civiliza¬ 
tion, are strangely joined in the Pantheon, one of 
the most remarkable historic and architectural 
structures in existence. Originally a Pagan tem¬ 
ple built B. C. 27, by Marcus Agrippa, as a me¬ 
morial of Augustus’ victory over Antony at the 
battle of Actium, B. C. 31, which led to the 


286 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


downfall of the republic, it was consecrated as a 
Christian church in 610 by Pope Boniface IV., 
and dedicated to the honor of all the saints, from 
which event the present festival of November i 
takes its rise. Since 1878 it has been partly secu¬ 
larized and converted into a mausoleum for the 
royal house of Savoy. It has a superb portico 
one hundred and ten feet long and forty-four feet 
deep, supported by sixteen giant columns of 
granite, each a monolith thirty-six feet high. 
The interior is a vast rotunda, covered with an 
immense dome one hundred and forty feet above 
the pavement. There are no windows, light and 
air being admitted through a single round aper¬ 
ture in the ceiling twenty-eight feet in diameter. 
One stands in awe before thiswonder of architec¬ 
tural genius, which, in spite of the gnawing tooth 
of Time, the upheavals of earthquakes and the 
ravages of war, rears its solid walls and majestic 
dome as firmly and proudly after two thousand 
years as if its creation were but the work of yes¬ 
terday. The tombs of Victor Emanuel II., the 
despoiler of the Popes, and his son, the mur¬ 
dered Umberto I., are the most conspicuous ob¬ 
jects of interest in the building from the view¬ 
point of ostentatious display, but beside them is 
another tomb, severe in its simplicity, that of the 
mighty Raphael, whose fame compared to that 
of his royal neighbors, is as an electric search¬ 
light to a tallow dip. 



THE TANTIIEON, OR ST. MARY OF THE MARTYRS—ROME. 



























Italy. 


287 


“Simple, erect, severe, austere, sublime, 

Shrine of all Saints and temple of all gods, 

From Jove to Jesus—spared and blest by time; 
Looking tranquility, while falls or nods 
Arch, empire, each thing round thee, and man plods 
His way through thorns to ashes—glorious dome ! 

Shalt thou not last ? Time’s scythe and tyrant’s rods 
Shiver upon thee—sanctuary and home 
Of art and piety—Pantheon—pride of Rome !”* 


The Mamertine Prisons—the Capitol— 

Vatican Galleries. 

Close by the Capitol stands the modest church 
of St. Joseph, under which are situated the his¬ 
toric Mamertine Prisons, the oldest in the 
world, and used as such even before the days of 
the Roman Republic. There are two dungeons, 
one above the other, whose names recall their 
founders, the Mamertine Prison in memory of 
King Ancus Martius, and the Tullian Prison, 
because King Servius Tullius, it is said, had it 
dug out under the first. The upper dungeon is 
an irregular quadrangle formed of enormous 
blocks of volcanic stone, fitted together without 
cement, dark and fearsome in spite of the mod¬ 
ern doors which pierce its thick walls. The 
lower dungeon, said to date from 578 B. C., is 
elliptical in form, nineteen feet long, ten feet 
wide, six and a half feet high. Originally the 
only access to each dungeon was by a small aper¬ 
ture in the centre of the vault through which 
alone light, air, food and the unfortunate victims 
could pass. As I descended into the dark and 


* Childe Harold. 




288 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


loathsome depths of this subterranean slaughter¬ 
house, as well as prison—for many were slaugh¬ 
tered in cold blood as well as imprisoned here— 
my mind reverted to the distant past, when Ju- 
gurtha and Vercingetorix, Rome’s most implac¬ 
able and powerful foes, were condemned to per¬ 
ish here, one by starvation, the other by the 
sword. It was also to this gloomy dungeon that 
Cicero conducted Lentulus and the other fellow- 
conspirators of Catiline, where a miserable death 
awaited them. For Christians these gloomy cav¬ 
erns have been consecrated for all time, for with¬ 
in their black depths Sts. Peter and Paul were 
held captives before their final martyrdom, and 
converted their jailers, whom they baptized by 
causing miraculously a spring of water to gush 
from the stony floor. Reverently I knelt and 
drank of the water which still flows after the 
lapse of nearly two thousand years, and touched 
with my Rosary the stone column to which they 
were chained. An altar has been erected within 
the dungeon, upon which the Holy Sacrifice is 
frequently offered. 

A short distance from the Mamertine stands 
the historic Capitol, with its ancient memories 
of the early days of the republic, its siege and 
assault by the Gauls, when it was saved from 
capture by the cackling of geese, the bravery of 
M. Manlius, the treachery of Tarpeia and other 
incidents familiar to the student of Roman his¬ 
tory. The buildings which now occupy the site 



Italy. 


289 


of the old fortress are comparatively modern, 
and were erected at a time when architecture was 
in decadence. The chief attraction is the Capi- 
toline Museum, founded by the Popes, after¬ 
wards confiscated, and now maintained by the 
Italian Government. 

Between the steps and the palace rises the 
single bronze equestrian statue bequeathed to us 
by Roman antiquity—that of Marcus Aurelius. 
Its preservation is due to the mistaken opinion 
that it was a statue of Constantine. It stood for 
several centuries in front of the Lateran palace, 
until 1538, when Paul III. directed Michael 
Angelo to place it in its present position. It is 
considered one of the finest equestrian works of 
art of which the world can boast. The museum 
is made up of several departments, and contains 
a vast array of the treasures of antiquity that 
have been recovered from time to time from the 
excavations of ancient Rome. Amongst the most 
prominent is the marble statue widely known as 
the “Dying Gladiator,” though modern investi¬ 
gators have decided to their own satisfaction, at 
least, that it represents a Gaulish chieftain. 
However the case may be, the world is indebted 
to this ancient masterpiece for the inspiration it 
gave to the noble lines of Lord Byron: 



290 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


“I see before me the gladiator lie: 

He leans upon his hand—his manly brow 
Consents to death, but conquers agony. 

And his drooped head sinks gradually low— 

And through his side the last drops ebbing slow 
From the red gash, fall heavy one by one, 

Like the first of a thunder shower; and now 
The arena swims around him—he is gone 
Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who 
won. 

He heard it; but he heeded not—His eyes 
Were with his heart, and that was far away; 

He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize, 

But where his rude hut by the Danube lay. 

There were his young barbarians all at play, 

There was their Dacian mother—he their sire 
Butchered to make a Roman holiday! 

All this rushed with his blood—shall he expire 
And unavenged ? Arise ! ye Goths and glut your ire.” 

The leading galleries of the Museum are dedi¬ 
cated to the most famous celebrities of antiquity. 
In one are ranged in almost endless files the great 
literary and philosophic lights of Greece and 
Rome. In the shape of marble busts or full 
statue size, one may see Socrates, Seneca, Agrip- 
pa, Diogenes, Theophratus, Demosthenes, Soph¬ 
ocles, Cato, Thucydides, Terence, Sapho, and 
hosts of other historic individuals. The other 
salon is filled to overflowing with the imperial 
personages of Pagan Rome and their numerous 
families, whose sculptured memorials have been 
dug out from time to time from the debris of the 
ancient buried city. 

The Palace of the Conservatory opposite the 
Capitoline Museum contains priceless bronzes, 


Italy. 


291 


terra-cottas, mosaics, and other antique objects 
recovered from the ruins of the past. The pic¬ 
ture gallery, which owes its existence to Boni¬ 
face XIV., contains a large number of paint¬ 
ings with world-renowned names attached, 
though critics maintain that the majority of 
them are only imitations. Although I spent 
the better part of a morning in these two build¬ 
ings, I had little time to do more than walk from 
one room to another, so vast is the profusion of 
ancient, classical art to be seen there. 

The first impression that the Vatican build¬ 
ings make upon the stranger is that of astonish¬ 
ment at their enormous size. Though grouped 
under one comprehensive term, the Vatican is 
not merely a single palace, but a series of pal¬ 
aces, which surpass in extent any other structures 
in the world. They are the accumulated results 
of the energies of successive Popes for many cen¬ 
turies. The royal palaces of Potsdam, Versailles, 
the Louvre, Windsor, and other noted buildings 
of Europe cannot compare with the Vatican 
either ip dimensions or magnificence. It is said 
to contain thirty grand halls, nine galleries,seven 
superb chapels, together with museums, library, 
archives, and about 4,500 rooms. Like St. Pe¬ 
ter’s, it is the greatest thing in Rome. Its very 
immensity overawes the visitor, who looks upon 
a thorough inspection of its vast interior as an 
impossible task. As for myself, I was satisfied 
to obtain a glimpse of the famous Sistine Chapel, 
with its magnificent frescoes by Michael An- 


292 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

the priceless library whose rare volumes are all 
hidden behind wooden cabinet doors, and a 
somewhat more extended survey of the world- 
renowned art galleries. 

The picture gallery is surprisingly small, con¬ 
sisting of four rooms only, and containing but 
forty-two paintings, each of which, however, 
ranks amongst the greatest masterpieces of all 
time. The two most valuable pictures in the 
world are in this collection—The Transfigura¬ 
tion, by Raphael, and the Communion of St. 
Jerome, by Domenichino. They occupy alone 
one of the four rooms. Raphael did not live to 
complete his wonderful canvas, but so high was 
the reputation it enjoyed, that it was placed at 
his death at the head of his bier, and was solemn¬ 
ly carried in procession at his funeral. The Ma¬ 
donna of Foligno is another precious gem of this 
select gallery, as well as another work, the coro¬ 
nation of the Blessed Virgin. Besides these 
works of the prince of painters, there are others 
to delight the eye and charm the artistic sense by 
the beauty of their finish. Amongst them are 
pictures of Fra Angelico, Perugino, Murillo, 
Mantegna, Cirvilli, and others. Each of them 
deserves a careful study. 

In the marvelous sculpture galleries and Vat¬ 
ican museums, the casual visitor realizes more 
fully than anywhere else the enormous debt 
which the nations of the earth owe to the lib¬ 
erality and profound culture of the Popes, who 



Italy. 


293 


have filled to overflowing these endless corri¬ 
dors with the finest specimens of Egyptian, 
Etruscan, Greek and Roman art that have come 
down the ages. To attempt to describe the treas¬ 
ures of this greatest and richest collection in ex¬ 
istence is beyond the powers of the writer. To 
master its manifold and intricate details would 
consume the best years of a connoisseur’s life. 
The lover of classical art can enter here, and re¬ 
fresh his soul with the deepest draughts of his 
favorite study. The two acknowledged master¬ 
pieces of Greek sculpture may be seen here, the 
marble group of the world-renowned Laocoon 
and his two sons, writhing in the folds of a ser¬ 
pent, and the crowning triumph of chiseled art, 
the Apollo Belvedere: 

“Or turning to the Vatican, go see 
Laocoon’s torture dignifying pain, 

A father’s love and mortal agony, 

With an immortal patience blending! Vain 
The struggle; vain against the coiling strain 
And gripe, and deepening of the dragon’s grasp, 

The old man’s clench; the long envenomed chain 
Rivets the living links, the enormous asp 
Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gash on gash. 


Or view the Lord of the evening bow 
The God of life, and poesy and light— 

The sun in human limbs arrayed, and brow 
All radiant from his triumph in the fight; 

The shaft hath just been shot—the arrow bright 
With an immortal’s vengeance in his eye, 

And nostril, beautiful disdain and might 
And majesty, flash their tightenings by, ^ 
Developing in that one glance the Deity.”* 


* Childe Harold. 



294 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Pius X. 

The supreme attraction which draws thousands 
of pilgrims, tourists and visitors to Rome from 
all parts of the civilized world, year after year, 
finds its highest expression, not in the numerous 
and interesting monuments of antiquity which 
may there be seen, nor even in the wealth of art 
that is housed by her magnificent churches; these 
things may be met with in a more or less limited 
measure in other parts of Europe; it is because 
the city on the banks of the Tiber has been for 
centuries the home of the Popes, that makes it 
the focus which concentrates within itself the 
hopes and aspirations of mankind. The Pontiffs 
have made it Centre of Christendom, the Queen 
of Religion, the Mistressof the Arts and Sciences, 
the Depositary of sacred learning. Were it not 
that Rome became the home of the Popes after 
it had ceased to be the capital of the Caesars, in 
all probability the proud title that it wears—the 
Eternal City—would long ago have become ex¬ 
tinct, and the former Mistress of the world, like 
Babylon, Antioch and Carthage, would be 
nothing more than a name in the pages of history. 
The Popes preserved Rome to civilization, and 
the successor of the Fisherman, in spite of the 
political revolution of 1870, still remains the 
dominant figure of its civil and ecclesiastical life. 


Italy. 


295 


/ 


He represents an institution that has conferred 
more signal benefits upon humanity, spiritual, 
educational, social, political, artistic, than any 
other single agency in the history of the world. 
In a leading editorial in a New York secular 
journal some years ago, anent the serious ill¬ 
ness of the late Pope Leo XIII., Arthur Bris¬ 
bane, the famous publicist, gave expression to 
the same idea in the following words: “Looked 
at from a purely human point of view, as a 
topographer would examine a mountain range, 
the Papacy is the most remarkable institution 
known to man. It is centuries older than any 
nation in Europe, and while the powers of every 
civil government is limited by definite boun¬ 
daries, the power of the Popes extends to every 
spot on the globe on which a Catholic lives. 

“It is an interesting fancy that, with all the 
growth of free thought and all the vigorous 
progress of non-Catholic churches, the Pope has 
more followers — exceeding two hundred and 
thirty millions — than any of his predecessors 
ever had in the whole history of the world. Sev- 
enty cardinals, fourteen patriarchs, 173 archbish¬ 
ops and 766 bishops carry the authority of Rome 
to the heart of Africa, the deserts of Central 
Asia, and the remotest islands of the Pacific. 
Nine European sovereigns and nineteen presi¬ 
dents of republics bow before the spiritual au¬ 
thority of the Pope. Alfonso XIII., Canovas, 
Sagasta and Weyler on one side, and Gomez. 


20 




296 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

Garcia and Maceo on the other, were associated 
in his communion. Aguinaldo, in the Philip¬ 
pine jungles, looks to the Vatican for his relig¬ 
ious guidance, and so does Mataafa, in the Sa¬ 
moan bush. There are more Catholics in the 
islands of the Pacific now than there were in the 
world when the first Popes began to reign. 

“Among the many unique features of the Pa¬ 
pacy, there is none more extraordinary than its 
combination of aristocracy and democracy. The 
Pope is an absolute ruler, but he may have 
sprung from a peasant family. Hildebrand, who 
kept the Holy Roman Emperor standing bare¬ 
foot in the snow before his gates at Canossa, was 
the son of a carpenter. The importance of such 
an influence in preserving the democratic idea 
through the reign of class privileges in the Mid¬ 
dle Ages cannot be overestimated. 

“The Pope in our day, though no longer a 
temporal prince, except within the precincts of 
the Vatican, receives sovereign honors even from 
the government that has taken possession of his 
capital. There is a diplomatic corps accredited 
to him, whose members have the same immuni¬ 
ties in Rome that are granted to those accredited 
to King Humbert. The Italian Government for 
twenty-seven years has guaranteed to the Pope 
an annual income of $620,000, which he has 
steadily refused to accept. The arrears of this 
annuity amount now to over $17,000,000, and if 
the money had been accepted from the beginning 


Italy. 


297 


and invested at compound interest at four per 
cent., it would have reached $30,000,000. It is 
rather refreshing, in this commercial age, to find 
anybody that can refuse a sum like that for a 
principle.” 

My visit to Pius X. constitutes one of the most 
memorable epochs in my life. Through the 
kindness of the Rector of the Canadian College, 
Father Clapin, I was invited to accompany the 
Archbishop of Montreal, Monsignor Bruchesi, 
and his secretary to the Vatican. I thus obtained 
a private audience, a rare privilege for a simple 
priest. At 10 A. M. we left the college and were 
driven to St. Peter’s, arriving a half hour later. 
At the entrance to the Vatican, the Swiss Guards, 
in their picturesque uniforms, presented arms, 
as is customary on the appearance of a prelate. 
We passed through several richly appointed 
rooms until we reached one of the ante-chambers. 
Here the Noble Guards presented arms. His 
Holiness was in conference with Cardinal Mar- 
tinelli, and we waited here for about half an 
hour. As the Archishop was summoned to the 
private room of the Pontiff, his secretary and 
myself were advanced to the room immediately 
adjoining. It was the death chamber of Leo 
XIII. There were still on exhibition in the 
apartments where he breathed his last several 
superb objects—works of art presented to him 
by sovereigns and other distinguished person¬ 
ages on the occasion of the golden jubilees of his 


298 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

priesthood and episcopate and the silver jubilee 
of his pontificate. In about half an hour the 
Archbishop had finished his private conference 
with the Holy Father, who warmly congratu¬ 
lated him on the unparalleled success of the 
Twenty-first International Eucharistic Congress 
held in his episcopal city on the banks of the St. 
Lawrence, September 9-12, 1910. He then ush¬ 
ered us into the Pontiff’s presence. One look 
into his smiling, paternal countenance, one 
glance at his kindly eyes, and I was completely 
captivated. He received us standing, and as I 
knelt to kiss the fisherman’s ring he gently raised 
me to my feet. On my informing him that I 
came from Baltimore, the home of Cardinal Gib¬ 
bons, he spoke most eulogistically of the United 
States and the great American Cardinal, whom 
he holds in the highest esteem. He then blessed 
some religious articles at my request, after which, 
kneeling, I asked the Apostolic Benediction for 
my friends, relatives and the members of the con¬ 
gregation of the church to which I was attached.- 
Having graciously granted my petition, he dis¬ 
coursed most enthusiastically on the great Con¬ 
gress at Madrid with the Archbishop, and the 
flourishing condition of the Church in the New 
World. His face fairly beamed with satisfac¬ 
tion as he recalled the magnificent reception 
which his representative, Cardinal Vanutelli, 
met with everywhere in his journey through 
Canada and the United States. About fifteen 


Italy. 


299 


minutes thus passed, and as the hall for public 
audiences was fast filling up with visitors as¬ 
sembled to greet the Holy Father, we prepared 
to take our leave. Kneeling, I kissed again and 
again the ring of the Father of the Faithful, the 
Vicar of Christ, whose simplicity, benignity, fa¬ 
therly affection impressed me more profoundly 
thananywords of mine can describe. In all prob¬ 
ability, I shall never again enjoy the rare privi¬ 
lege of speaking to the successor of St. Peter, but 
that day, its emotions, its happiness, its exalted 
satisfaction, will abide in my memory until the 
last moment of my life. 


“I saw his face today; he looks a chief 
Who fears nor human rage, nor human guile; 
Upon his cheeks the twilight of a grief, 

But in that grief the starlight of a smile. 

Deep gentle eyes, with drooping lids that tell 
They are the homes where tears of sorrow dwell; 
A low voice—strangely sweet—whose very tone 
Tells how those lips speak oft with God alone. 

I kissed his hand, I fain would kiss his feet; 

‘No, no/ he said; and then in accents sweet, 

His blessing fell upon my bended head. 

He bade me rise, a few more words he said, 

Then took me by the hand, the while he smiled— 
And, going, whispered: Tray for me, my child/ ” 



300 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


NAPLES. 

/ 

Rome and its attractions finally yielded to the 
lure of Southern Italy, and boarding an express, 
I started for Naples. The road runs for miles 
through the famous Campania, a flat, treeless 
country, resembling in this respect our western 
prairies. The most conspicuous object to be seen 
from the car window is the remains of the great 
aqueduct, built in very remote antiquity to sup¬ 
ply Rome with fresh water from the mountains. 
This aerial water way seems to stretch indefinite¬ 
ly across the country, and affords one some idea 
of the vastness of the engineering works under¬ 
taken by the Romans of old. The railroad par¬ 
allels the Appennines the greater part of the way 
to Naples, and the scenery at times is extremely 
picturesque. At Monte Cassino, about half the 
distance between Rome and Naples, perched on 
the very pinnacle of the mountain range, stands 
the world-renowned monastery of St. Benedict, 
the cradle of civilization for western Europe. 
As seen from below, it is a vast and impressive 
pile. 

As the train neared Naples, Mt. Vesuvius was 
easily recognized towering high above the land¬ 
scape, but to my great disappointment, no signs 
of smoke or other evidences of volcanic activity 
could be seen. My first visit on arrival was to 


Italy. 


301 


the National Museum, where several hours were 
spent examining its vast wealth of classical anti¬ 
quities. In certain features it has no parallel in 
the world. All the treasures brought to light by 
the excavations of Pompeii and Herculaneum 
have been transferred to its halls, and the spec¬ 
tator is momentarily transported back two thou¬ 
sand years ago, as he beholds the paintings, statu¬ 
ary, jewelry of all kinds and shapes, medallions, 
gold pins, brooches, bracelets, magnificent 
cameos, bronzes, glass, gold, silver and copper 
ware, scales for weighing merchandise, dishes 
for cooking food, carpenter’s planes and ham¬ 
mers, surgical instruments, and even articles of 
food that were once the property of the inhabi¬ 
tants of the stricken cities. Amongst the ancient 
frescoes are more than 1,600 specimens found at 
Herculaneum and Pompeii. The collection of 
antique sculptures contains the statues of the Ro¬ 
man Emperors, and a colossal bust of Julius 
Caesar. The “room of the papyri” includes 
more than 1,700 rolls of parchment from Her¬ 
culaneum disfigured by the effects of the fire, of 
which about five hundred have been successfully 
unrolled. Several volumes of transcriptions 
from them have been published. 

Besides all these treasures, the Museum pos¬ 
sesses a picture gallery of over eight hundred 
paintings, many of them by the most famous of 
the old masters. The best paintings are arranged 
in four rooms, apart from the main collections of 


302 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the several schools, with some remarkable en¬ 
gravings and drawings by the great masters. 
The building itself is by no means imposing, hav¬ 
ing been originally a cavalry barracks, and after¬ 
wards remodelled from the designs of Fontana, 
for the use of the University, though ample 
enough to house this unrivalled collection. 

After the Museum, the city itself engaged my 
attention. The route selected lay along the 
coast as far as Posilipo, a distance of about five 
miles. As the car ascended the steep incline, the 
view of Naples and its world-renowned bay be¬ 
came more distinct. It is indeed a superb pano¬ 
rama that presents itself to the eye, and it may 
be freely admitted that the glowing descriptions 
that one so often reads about the loveliness of 
these shores are not in any wise exaggerated. 
The graceful curving bay that fringes the coast 
like a crescent for fifteen miles on either side of 
Vesuvius as a background, is acknowledged to 
have no superior for natural beauty on the face 
of the globe. To the lovers of classical litera¬ 
ture, this hillside has a historic significance, for 
it was here with Nature’s most marvelous en¬ 
chantments surrounding him, that Virgil com¬ 
posed his immortal iEneid and Georgies. 
Cicero also owned a villa on this commanding 
height, whither he was wont to retire at times 
from the turbulent atmosphere of the civil, polit¬ 
ical and forensic life of Rome. 


Italy. 


3°3 


The city itself, however, does not impress the 
stranger favorably. Though the most populous 
in Italy, it is at the same time the most unsightly. 
With few exceptions, the streets, narrow, ill- 
kept, bordered with dingy tenements, five and six 
stories high, and swarming with thousands upon 
thousands of the very poor of the Italian popula¬ 
tion, emphasize the darker shades of the picture. 
The greatmajorityof them lead a hand-to-mouth 
existence, and it seems almost a standing miracle, 
in view of the unsanitary conditions under which 
they live, that pestilence and disease do not sweep 
them away by thousands. 

The principal cause of the deplorable condi¬ 
tion of the masses in this, as in most of the other 
Italian cities, according to the opinion of a late 
well known American traveler and writer, J. L. 
Stoddard, is the present military system of the 
government. “To maintain this,” he says, “to 
build enormous battleships, and to keep up exten¬ 
sive African colonies, the people have been liter¬ 
ally taxed to death. The Italian ministers must 
rack their brains to invent new taxes. There is, 
for example, a tax on every box of matches that 
some poor woman tries to sell for a cent, a tax on 
every one who offers in the street a bit of fruit or 
fish, and a tax on every name displayed outside 
a building. The latest invention is a tax on 
empty bottles. I threw away one at Sorrento. A 
native told me that he wanted it, but that if he 
picked it up and brought it into Naples he would 


304 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

have to pay for the privilege. The wandering 
street musicians also have to pay a tax, as do the 
newsboys, guides, tram-car drivers, waiters in 
restaurants, and even the beggar, who must have a 
license to solicit alms. Each village has its local 
custom house. In driving the few miles from 
Naples to Sorrento, we passed half a dozen of 
them, and every particle of food or merchandise 
which the half-starved inmates of those small 
towns brought in for their use was subject to a 
duty. Grapes are taxed on the vines when abou^ 
half ripe. If, after that they spoil, so much the 
worse for theowners,for the Governmentpays no 
money back. Moreover, wholesome, nourishing 
food is beyond the reach of the poor. Beef, for 
example, costs in Naples thirty cents a pound, 
and butter forty cents; good milk sells at twelve 
cents a quart, while a small chicken which 
will not, however, tear under the wing, 
commands a price of sixty cents. Kero¬ 
sene also costs nearly four times as much 
in Naples as in America; fuel is so dear, 
that among the very poor, vegetables are 
not boiled, but merely softened in hot water to 
save the long continued use of the fire, and it is 
a pitiable sight to see old women and children 
buying a handful of charcoal at a time to do the 
cooking for the day. Yet on account of the pre¬ 
vailing dishonesty in Italy, it is said that not 
more than two-thirds of the revenue taken from 
them ever reaches the public treasury.” 


Italy. 


305 


“It is, in my opinion,” he continues, “a terrible 
mistake for Italy to try to keep step with Ger¬ 
many, France and England. She has been flat¬ 
tered and cajoled into assuming a position in the 
politics of Europe which she cannot fill. She is 
doing what in an individual would be called div¬ 
ing beyond his means.’ It would be vastly better 
for her were she content to rank with Belgium, 
Switzerland and Holland as a minor Power. 
Her soil is supremely fertile; she is the chief cus¬ 
todian of Ancient Art, the favorite of Nature, 
and the Shrine of History. The multitudes of 
pilgrims and tourists who every year enter her 
gates and spend their money freely in her cities, 
would make her prosperous, were not one-half 
her revenue used to pay the national debt, and if 
two-thirds of the remaining half were not ex¬ 
pended on an army and navy suitable only to a 
first-class wealthy nation.” 

The ride south from Naples to Castellamare 
and Sorrento embraces scenery maritime and 
mountainous combined that admittedly cannot be 
surpassed anywhere in the world. The train 
skirted the coast for the whole distance, about 25 
miles. The entire route is fringed with little 
towns and colonies, some of them very pretty, 
others the reverse. After an hour’s journey, 
Castellamare is reached, situated on the very 
edge of the water, with the towering Apennines 
inthebackground. Many of the houses and villas 
are perched high on the mountain side, and seem 


306 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

almost inaccessible of approach. “Occasionally 
also on high bluffs appear the threatening forms 
of ruined castles, which in the distance look like 
outgrowths of the cliffs themselves, and seem as 
truly portions of the crags on which they stand 
as were the fabled centaur’s head and shoulders 
a part of the steed from which they sprung. 
They serve as reminders of the fact, that for¬ 
merly this coast was lined with massive towers 
whose bells gave warning of the approach of pi¬ 
rates. Best of all, beneath, always in this glori¬ 
ous driveway, is the sparkling sea. It knows no 
change amid those ruins of the past, but spreads 
along the shore its filigre of silver foam as when 
its waves were furrowed by the ships of Troy.”* 
Castellamare is a pretty town of about thirty 
thousand population, and vies with its famous 
neighbor, Sorrento, as a summer resort for thous¬ 
ands from all parts of the world, attracted 
thither by its marvelous scenic beauty. The 
principal streets are spacious, and well paved 
and bordered by elegant shops and comfortable 
hotels. The Cathedral is an old and imposing 
structure in the basilica style common to the 
most noted churches of Italy. The historic as¬ 
sociations of the place are connected with the 
memories of Sylla and Pliny the Elder. The 
city is built near the site of the ancient Stabiae, 
which having been destroyed by the famous Dic¬ 
tator, was afterwards occupied principally by 


* J. L. Stoddard, Lectures on Italy. 



Italy. 


307 


villas and pleasure grounds. It was here that 
the Elder Pliny, wishing to approach as near as 
possible to Vesuvius during the eruption which 
overwhelmed Herculaneum and Pompeii, met 
his death, A. D. 79. 


POMPEII. 

This long buried and partly resurrected city of 
the classical era, lies about midway between Sor¬ 
rento and Naples. It easily overshadows in in¬ 
terest every other object of note even in this his¬ 
toric and picturesque locality, and is undoubtedly 
the chief source of attraction for the thousands 
of every land who visit Southern Italy. As a 
city, judged by our modern standpoint, Pompeii 
is disappointing. The dwellings are, for the most 
part, small and low, few exceeding two stories in 
height; have little exterior ornamentation, and 
appear to be well adapted for a people accus¬ 
tomed to pass most of the day in the open air. 
The streets, which, as a rule, run in regular 
lines, are, with some exceptions, barely wide 
enough to admit the passage of a single vehicle, 
and everywhere the stone flagging is worn deep 
by the ruts made in them by the wagons and 
chariots of two thousand years ago. The widest 
thoroughfare does not exceed thirty feet in 
width, and few are over twenty-two feet. Vesu- 



308 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

i 

vius had evidently done his work well here, as 
with the exception of a very few houses in a fair 
state of preservation, there was little to be seen 
besides fragments of columns, broken capitals, 
shattered cornices, naked walls, and other like 
debris of a ruined city. The most interesting 
buildings, perhaps were the remains of the pub¬ 
lic baths, with their mosaic floors, decorated 
walls and marble basins for hot and cold water. 
Of the temples and Forum, there is little left by 
which an idea may be gleaned of their original 
appearance. The size of these structures, to an 
American, at least, appeared to have been ridic¬ 
ulously small. The architecture, like that of 
most of the public and private edifices of Pom-' 
peii, is mixed; the style, whether Greek or Ro¬ 
man, being frequently defective, and the attempts 
to unite different orders, clumsy and tasteless. 
The Temple of Neptune, however, is pure 
Doric, resembling in this respect, its name¬ 
sake in Paestum. Southeast of the Forum, 
and at a distance of four hundred vards, were 
the great or tragic theatre, and the lesser 
theatre, or Odeum, both of Roman origin. 
The former, having accommodations for 5,000 
people, stood on a slight elevation, and was 
never completely buried. In the southeast angle 
of the city was the amphitheatre, an ellipse 430 
ft. by 335 ft., capable of seating 10,000 spectators. 
Here took place, for the pleasure of the populace, 
the bloody gladiatorial combats in which men 


Italy. 


309 


were pitted against one another in a struggle to 
the death. At other times, lions, tigers, leopards 
and other wild beasts were let loose in the arena, 
and a handful of men were compelled to enter 
and engage them in mortal conflict. This bar¬ 
barous sport was most popular amongst the 
Romans of old, who seemed to take a fiendish 
delight in witnessing poor, human wretches torn 
to pieces by infuriated and bloodthirsty animals. 
That such were the most common amusements of 
the Pompeiians, may be learned from the adver¬ 
tisements and inscriptions found upon the street 
walls. One of them reads as follows: “Thirty 
pairs of gladiators will fight tomorrow at sunrise 
in the amphitheatre.” Another states: “A troop 
of gladiators will fight in Pompeii the last day 
of June.” 

According to the historian, Dion Cassius, the 
inhabitants of the doomed city were assembled 
in this building when the eruption of Vesuvius 
took place, doubtless satiating their lust for blood 
and slaughter by witnessing the savage and san¬ 
guinary scenes enacted there. It seemed, indeed, 
a judgment from heaven for their inhumanity, 
that the great volcano should suddenly open its 
sides and overwhelm them and their bloody 
playground in one common grave of destruction 

As I sat alone and under a burning sun on one 
of the stone benches of the amphitheatre and 
surveyed the scene around me, the reflection 
came to my mind that not the least of the benefits 


3 l ° 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


to humanity and civilization that followed in the 
wake of the triumph of Christianity over Pagan¬ 
ism was the abolition of these cruel and san¬ 
guinary spectacles, the effect of which was to 
extinguish every spark of pity in the human 
breast for their unfortunate victims and to arouse 
in its stead the most savage instincts of man’s 
coarser nature. As late as 404, that is, seventy- 
five years after Constantine had forbidden all 
human butchery in the Roman Colosseum, gladi¬ 
atorial combats still went on, for the old passion 
could not be uprooted from the hearts of the 
populace, in spite of their conversion to Chris¬ 
tianity. St. Telemachus, an Eastern monk, in 
that year made an offering of his life in order to 
put an end to these barbarities. Shocked by the 
scenes of carnage and cruelty which he wit¬ 
nessed, he rushed into the arena, restrained the 
uplifted arm of the triumphant gladiator, who 
was about to give the death-stroke to his luckless 
opponent, and begged not only him, but the spec¬ 
tators also, to renounce such bloody deeds for¬ 
ever. 7 'he mob, infuriated at his interference 
with their favorite sport, buried him under an 
avalanche of stones thrown from all parts of the 
amphitheatre. The blood of the holy martyr 
was not, however, shed in vain. Christianity had 
then become the religion of the state, and the 
Emperor Honorius, moved by this sublime act 
of heroic self-sacrifice, issued a decree which put 
an end to those sanguinary contests forever. 


Italy. 


31 i 

The best preserved of the houses of Pompeii 
is that of the family of the Vetii, which was 
undoubtedly one of the wealthiest in the city. 
The courtyard in the centre is paved in mosaics 
of black and white designs, and appears as fresh 
and striking in color as the day they were laid 
some two thousand years ago. Marble statues 
of artistic beauty, mounted on richly carved ped¬ 
estals, surround a marble fountain, faultlessly 
executed. The house, like the majority of the 
dwellings, is but one story high, built in the form 
of a hollow square, with the living and other 
rooms opening upon it. The frescoes on the 
walls are still very distinct, some of them of ar¬ 
tistic merit, but nearly all of them emphasizing 
under one guise or another the one unvarying 
theme—nude men and women. One becomes 
thoroughly disgusted with this leading feature of 
Pagan art, as he finds it, both at Pompeii and the 
National Museum at Naples. It proves to a 
demonstration that the religion of the ancient 
Romans was nothing more nor less than a species 
of gross sensualism. It seems to be the principal 
keynote of all their art, and the cultivation of 
the nude, which is so much in vogue today, is 
merely the recrudescence of the cultus of Venus 
and Apollo of old. 

The “house of Cupid,” or the “house of gold,” 
which is the next best preserved of the residences 
of the wealthier class in Pompeii, is similar in 
general features to that just described. In many 


21 


212 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


of the dwellings the daily life, habits, tastes, and 
even the thoughts of the occupants can be traced 
with almost positive certainty. The work of ex¬ 
cavation proceeds at a very slow pace, due to the 
impecuniosity or parsimony of the Italian Gov¬ 
ernment, which seems to have at its disposal mil¬ 
lions for battleships, but merely a few paltry 
thousands for the prosecution of a work whose 
successful completion would benefit the classical 
scholars of the whole world. At present about 
one-third of the city has been uncovered, and at 
the rate of progress thus far made, sixty yeais 
must elapse before Pompeii will have been en 
tirely cleared of the debris showered upon it by 
Vesuvius centuries ago. 


MONTE CASSINO. 

The far-famed monastery and cradle of the 
Order of St. Benedict possesses so unique an in¬ 
terest for the lover of history, civil and ecclesi¬ 
astical, that on the return trip from Naples 
I found it impossible to resist the tempta¬ 
tion to make the ascent to the mountainous 
heights and spend a few hours,at least, on a spot 
ever memorable in the history of Western civili¬ 
zation. When the train arrived at the station, 
one of the monks alighted, and as he was on his 
way to the Monastery, I gladly availed myself 



Italy. 


3 ! 3 


of his invitation to accompany him. Entering 
a conveyance, we started on our long journey to 
the summit. We toiled slowly upwards, and as 
the day was unusually hot, our sympathies went 
out to the poor beast as he struggled up the 
mountainside to an altitude of more than 1,800 
feet. After two hours’ climbing, we reached 
our destination, and were hospitably received by 
the Fathers and lay brothers. The difficulties 
of the journey causes one to marvel how the great 
patriarch of the monks of the West, in the primi¬ 
tive and almost semi-savage condition of the age 
in which he lived, was able to scale this moun¬ 
tain peak, and more wonderful still, how he was 
able to construct a vast monastery on its summit. 
The view from the main entrance is surpassingly 
glorious, and of itself amply repays the time and 
trouble expended. St. Benedict was the Father, 
or rather Patriarch of the monastic life in the 
Western world, and his monastery was the cradle 
of civilization for all modern Europe. He died 
as far back as 543 A. D., but before that time he 
had sent his monks to all parts of Europe, to 
Christianize and civilize the savage and warlike 
tribes that infested it. He taught them, besides 
the saving truths of Catholicity, the arts and 
sciences, including agriculture, and laid the 
foundations of their civil and political life. It 
was the “black monks of St. Benedict,” under the 
guidance of the Catholic Church, who saved 
Europe from hopeless barbarism at the downfall 


i 


. j 


314 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

of the Roman Empire, and the world owes them 
a debt which it either ignores or can never hope 
to repay. No other Religious Order can claim 
to have done so much in the work of evangeliza¬ 
tion and civilization. The monks planted Chris¬ 
tianity in England, Germany, the whole of Scan¬ 
dinavia and Friesland. For centuries they were 
the principal teachers of youth in all branches of 
the arts and sciences. Many cathedrals—espe¬ 
cially in England—abbeys and churches scattered 
up and down the countries of Western Europe 
were the workof Benedictine architects and buil¬ 
ders. Amongst their distinguished members they 
can boast of 24 Popes, 200 cardinals, 7,000 arch¬ 
bishops, 13,000 bishops, and over 1,500 canon¬ 
ized saints. To their literary labors the world 
is indebted for the preservation of the an¬ 
cient classics, the Scriptures and the writ¬ 
ings of the Fathers, which, but for their 
industry, would undoubtedly have been lost. 
“If it be demanded,” says Hallam (Middle 
Ages, p. 461), a non-Catholic historian, “by 
what cause it happened that a few sparks of an¬ 
cient learning survived, we can only ascribe their 
preservation to the establishment of Christianity. 
Religion alone made a bridge, as it were, across 
the chaos, and has linked the two periods of an¬ 
cient and modern civilization. Without this con¬ 
necting principle, Europe might indeed have 
awakened to intellectual pursuits, but the mem¬ 
ory of Greece and Rome would have been feebly 




Italy. 


3 r S 

preserved by tradition, and the monuments of 
those nations might have excited on the return of 
civilization, that vague sentiment of speculation 
and wonder with which men now contemplate 
Persepolis or the Pyramids. The sole hope for 
literature depended on the Latin language; and 
I do not see why that should not have been lost 
if the three circumstances in the prevailing re¬ 
ligious system had not conspired to maintain it: 
the papal supremacy, the monastic institutions, 
and the use of the Latin liturgy.” 

The present buildings form a vast rectangular 
pile, externally more massive than beautiful. 
The ancient tower of St. Benedict, now a series 
of chapels elaborately decorated by monastic 
artists of the Beuron School, is the only portion 
dating back to the foundation of the abbey. The 
monastery has experienced many vicissitudes of 
fortune in the 1,400 years of its existence. After 
successive ravages by the Lombards in the sixth, 
by the Saracens in the ninth, and the Normans in 
the eleventh century, it has been restored each 
time with greater magnificence until 1349, when 
it was nearly destroyed by an earthquake. In 
1866 it was suppressed in common with all other 
religious houses by the iniquitous Italian govern¬ 
ment, which confiscated the property and de¬ 
clared it a national monument. A more outrage¬ 
ous example of high-handed robbery and sacri¬ 
lege could hardly be surpassed anywhere within 
the confines of a modern civilized country, with 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


3 t 6 

the exception, perhaps, of France. The Abbot, 
with about thirty-five monks and a number of lay 
brothers, are allowed to live in the monastery 
merely as caretakers or tenants at will, and con¬ 
sequently are liable to be driven out at any mo¬ 
ment it may suit the whims of their plundering 
masters. 

The crowning glory of the monastery is its 
great church, whose magnificent interior holds 
one spellbound. After seeing the grandeur of 
the Roman churches, I felt that I could meet 
with nothing to equal, much less to surpass them, 
but this edifice, built on the mountain top, was a 
complete revelation. The enormous profusion 
of inlaid precious marble, with which it has been 
lavishly adorned, strikes the beholder with aston¬ 
ishment. Every inch of the walls has been dec¬ 
orated in the finest example of Florentine mosaic 
work in Europe, whilst the ceiling and dome are 
resplendent with the rich frescoes of master 
artists. Competent critics maintain that in 
grandeur and magnificence of detail it is only 
surpassed by St. Peter’s in Rome. In a crypt be¬ 
neath the Eastern portion rest the remains of St. 
Benedict and those of his sister, St. Scholastica. 
The gold mosaics that adorn the walls of this 
chapel for richness and effect are unsurpassed 
anywhere. It was the life-work of the late arch¬ 
abbot Krug, an American, and a former Balti¬ 
morean, to adorn the last resting place of the 
founder of his great order. Amongst the con- 


























































Italy. 


317 


tributors to the work were nearly all the crowned 
heads of Europe, including the Emporors of 
Germany and Austria, whose names, together 
with those of other royal benefactors, are in¬ 
scribed on a memorial tablet. 

The library of the monastery is considered one 
of the most valuable in Europe, because of its 
rare treasures that delight the book-lover’s heart. 
Besides the vast number of documents relating 
to the early history of the abbey, some of them 
more than a thousand years old, the archives con¬ 
tain some 1,400 precious manuscripts, chiefly 
patristic and historical, together with illumi¬ 
nated missals and psalters of the highest artistic 
skill. The rarest book in the collection is a vol¬ 
ume of the writings of Origen, dating from the 
fifth century, and said to have been used by St. 
Benedict himself. Documents and parchments 
of kings and emperors from the year 800 are on 
exhibition in glass cases. A copy of the first book 
printed in Italy is shown to the visitor, besides 
many other volumes which date from the begin¬ 
ning of the art of printing. The library contains 
also a large collection of modern texts, and every 
facility is courteously put at the disposal of 
scholars who visit the abbey to work on the man¬ 
uscripts. When the monastery was declared a 
national monument, orders were given to trans¬ 
port the whole collection of manuscripts to the 
National Library at Naples; but owing to the 
personal intercession of Mr. Gladstone, the 


3iB Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Prime Minister of England, the order was coun¬ 
termanded, and instead, one of the community 
was appointed as Archivist, with a salary fror: 
the Government, an arrangement which st.ll 
continues. 


SIENNA. 

About midway between Rome and Florence, 
at an elevation of 1,300 feet above the sea, stands 
the city of Sienna, which in bygone days played a 
conspicuous part in the role of Italian republics. 
Situated on a branch instead of the main line of 
the railway, it is neglected by the average tourist, 
though the attractions it has to offer are sur¬ 
passed by but few others of the Northern Penin¬ 
sula. Its history can be traced back to a very 
early period—that of the Etruscans—long be¬ 
fore the foundation of Rome. In the sixth cen¬ 
tury it was already the seat of a bishop, and in 
the Middle Ages became a powerful republic, 
rivaling Florence in wealth and prestige. Its 
constant and bloody warfare with this great 
neighbor contributed to its downfall and finally 
its annexation to the dukedom of Tuscany. 

As one of the earliest homes of the Renais¬ 
sance, Sienna enjoys a reputation second only to 
that of Florence. In no other city had art, espe¬ 
cially painting, a more local character, and no- 





Italy. 


3*9 


where else did it remain more conservative. 
Sculpture received its first impulse from Nicco- 
lo and Giovanni Pisano, whose disciples carved 
the decorations of the renowned facade of the 
Cathedral of Orvieto. Sculpture in wood could 
boast as its foremost representatives the brothers 
Antonio and Giovanni Barili. The brilliancy 
of the Renaissance, however, which shed over 
Florence a flood of imperishable glory, dimmed 
in great measure the achievements of the Sien¬ 
nese schools, although the city of the great St. 
Catherine still holds an honored place in the 
world of art. 

To the stranger from the new world a leis¬ 
urely stroll through the streets of this quaint 
Tuscan town affords many varied and delightful 
sensations. Modern progress, with its iconoclas¬ 
tic spirit, has not as yet succeeded in dissipating 
the charming atmosphere of medievalism which 
lingers around it, and as one traverses the nar¬ 
row winding highways, bordered by heavy for¬ 
tress-like structures, which seem to have been 
built for eternity, it requires no great effort of 
fancy to imagine one’s self living in other days 
and under different conditions. 

The one unfading glory of Sienna from a 
purely architectural and historic point of view, 
and the magnet which draws lovers of the beau¬ 
tiful from all parts of the world to the Tuscan 
city, is the wonderful cathedral, “a poem in 
stone.” The facade of the church is ranked 


320 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


among the most elaborate in the world, and fully 
satisfies the expectations of the most exacting 
critic. Rarely, if ever, have human eyes beheld 
such beauty in carved stone as this magnificent 
front reflects. Though erected more than five 
hundred years ago, its snowy whiteness as seen 
in the brilliant sunshine of a July afternoon was 
positively dazzling. The whole facade, with its 
pointed arches, its delicate lace-like carving, its 
numberless statues, its gold mosaics, presents a 
picture to the eye of such splendor and freshness 
as to leave its impress upon the memory forever. 
Nathaniel Hawthorne, the greatest of our Amer¬ 
ican prose writers; has described this glorious 
facade in his Italian Note Book with a pea 
which could hardly have been more apprecia¬ 
tive had he possessed the gift of Faith which has 
come to his children. 

“The facade is of white and black marble, 
with an intermixture of red and other colors, but 
Time has toned them down, so that white, black 
and red do not contrast with one another as they 
may have done five hundred years ago. The 
architecture has a variety which does not pro¬ 
duce the effect of eccentricity, an exuberant flow¬ 
ering out in stone. On high, in the great peak 
of the front, there is a round window of im¬ 
mense circumference, the painted figures of 
which we can see dimly from the outside. 
Around the summit of the edifice stand vener¬ 
able statues, relieved against the sky—the high- 




THE FACADE, CATHEDRAL—SIENNA, ITALY 

















































































































Italy. 


3 21 


est of all being the Saviour. But what I would 
wish to impress and never can, is the multitudi¬ 
nous richness of the ornamentation; the arches 
within arches, sculptured inch by inch, of the 
rich doorways, the statues of saints, some making 
a hermitage of a niche, others standing forth; 
the scores of busts that look like faces of ancient 
people, gazing down out of the cathedral; the 
projecting shapes of stone lions; the thousand 
forms of Gothic fancy, which seemed to soften 
the marble and express whatever it liked, and 
allow it to harden again to last forever. And 
this description gives not an idea of the truth, 
nor least of all, can it shadow forth that solemn 
whole, mightily combined out of all these minute 
particulars and sanctifying the entire ground 
over which this cathedral front flings its shadow, 
or in which it reflects the sun—a majesty and 
minuteness, neither interfering with the other, 
this is the true charm of Gothic architecture. 
* * * H ow much pride, love and reverence 

in the lapse of ages must have clung to the sharp 
points of all this sculpture! The cathedral is a 
religion in itself, something worth dying for to 
those who have an hereditary interest in it.” 

The interior of this wonderful cathedral is 
worthy of its external splendor. The massive 
pillars, the superb dome, the graceful arches, 
are constructed of black and white marble in al¬ 
ternate layers. The effect is indescribably grand. 
In this church is also seen the famous pulpit of 



322 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

the four lions, by Niccolo Pisano, universally 
considered as the finest piece of work of its kind 
in the world. A massive marble pulpit, richly 
carved, rests with its supporting columns on the 
backs of four marble lions. The beholder stands 
in rapt admiration before this masterpiece of 
exquisite art, which still retains its freshness and 
beauty after the lapse of centuries. The floor of 
the edifice is unique, in that every foot of its 
vast area depicts in black and white marble 
scenes from mythology and the Old and New 
Testament. 

“Peculiar to Sienna,” Mr. J. Addington Sy- 
monds observes, “is the pavement of the cathe¬ 
dral. It is inlaid with a kind of tarsia work in 
marble. Some of these compositions are as old 
as the cathedral; others are the work of Becca- 
finni and his scholars. They represent in the 
liberal spirit of medical Christianity, the his¬ 
tory of the Church before the Incarnation. 
Hermes Trismegistes and the sybils meet us at 
the doorway; in the body of the church we find 
the mighty deeds of the old Jewish heroes— 
Moses and Samson, Joshua and Judith. Inde¬ 
pendent of the artistic beauty of the designs of 
the skill with which men and horses are drawn 
in the most difficult attitudes, of the dignity of 
some simpler figures, and of the vigor and sim¬ 
plicity of the larger compositions, a special in¬ 
terest attaches to this pavement in connection 
with the twelfth canto of the Purgatorio. Did 



Italy. 


323 


Dante ever tread these stones and meditate upon 
these sculptured mysteries? That is what we 
cannot say,butwe read how he journeyed through 
the plains of Purgatory with eyes bent upon its 
stone floor, how he saw Nimrod at the foot of 
his great work, confounded, gazing at the people 
who were found with him. The strong and sim¬ 
ple outlines of the pavement correspond to the 
few words of the poet.” 

“Bending over these pictures, and trying to 
learn their lesson, with the thought of Dante in 
our mind, the tones of the organ, singularly sweet 
and mellow, fall upon our ears, and we remem¬ 
ber how he heard the ‘Te Deum’ sung within 
the gateway of repentance.” 

After the cathedral, the most noted edifice is 
the Palazzo Publico, whose famous ‘Torre del 
Mangia’ enjoys a world-wide reputation. A dis¬ 
tinguished English writer pronounced it the 
most perfect tower in the world, a statement 
that seems to demand modification, as Giotto’s 
Campanile, in Florence, has long been consid¬ 
ered the masterpiece of this particular style of 
architecture. In front of the Palazzo Publico 
extends the great Piazzo del Campo, where on 
the 2d of July and the 15th of August every year 
are held the celebrated races—Corse del Palio— 
which, by reason of the gay medley of the riders 
and their historical costumes, attract a large con¬ 
course of people. The beautiful fountain in the 
piazza is the work of Jacopo della Quercia. 



324 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

Sienna’s fame, however, does not rest on its 
architectural monuments of the past alone, not¬ 
able as they are; other cities can boast of a like 
distinction in greater or lesser measure. It is 
chiefly as the home of St. Catherine, one of the 
greatest women of all times, that the name of the 
former Tuscan republic has acquired an imper¬ 
ishable renown. St. Catherine, a native of Si¬ 
enna, though born of humble parents and de¬ 
void of scholastic training, figured largely in the 
world of events of her time; became the coun¬ 
sellor and confidential ambassadress of Popes, 
Emperors and Kings, and died at the early age 
of thirty-three, leaving behind her a reputation 
for holiness, learning and the highest qualities 
of statesmanship that have marked her out as 
one of the most extraordinary women in the his¬ 
tory of the race. She became the instrument in 
the hands of Providence of putting an end to the 
‘Babylonian Captivity’ of the Roman Pontiffs at 
Avignon, which had lasted seventy years, and 
in the face of the opposition of well-nigh the 
whole world, she sought out Gregory XI. in his 
French retreat, brought him back to Rome and 
re-established him in the Papal chair. “Armed 
with Papal authority,” writes Father Bowden, 
“and accompanied by three confessors, she trav¬ 
eled through Italy, reducing rebellious cities to 
the obedience of the Holy See, and winning 
hardened souls to God.” Whilst at Pisa, on the 
fourth Sunday of Lent, 1375, she received the 


Italy. 


3 2 5 


stigmata, although at her special prayer the 
marks did not appear outwardly whilst she lived. 
Her writings rank amongst the classics of the 
Italian language, composed as they were in the 
beautiful Tuscan vernacular of the fourteenth 
century. Her famous “Letters” addressed to 
Popes and sovereigns, rulers of republics and 
leaders of armies are documents of priceless 
value to the students of history. 

My visit to the home of St. Catherine, where 
she was born and lived during the greater por¬ 
tion of her remarkable life, brought to a fitting 
close my stay in Sienna. Though more than six 
hundred years old, the house is so solidly con- 
struced that it seems to bid defiance to the rav¬ 
ages of time. The piety, genius and munificence 
of centuries have contributed to its adornment. 
A guide conducts the visitors through the differ¬ 
ent apartments so intimately connected with the 
illustrious virgin, and gives a brief history of 
each. Her bedroom, kitchen and workroom are 
pointed out, all of which have been converted 
into chapels, and are veritable museums of art. 
Sienna cherishes the memory of its distinguished 
daughter, whose career and virtues have render¬ 
ed its name imperishable. Time, the elements, 
and man may eventually succeed in laying low 
its glorious cathedral, and reducing to ashes its 
historic edifices, but the name and the fame of 
St. Catherine have endowed it with a glory 
which can never fade. 


326 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


FLORENCE. 

“Of all the fairest cities of the earth, 

None is so fair as Florence. ’Tis a gem 
of purest ray; what a light broke forth 
When it emerged from darkness.” 

1 hese lines of the English poet possessed more 
than usual significance for me as I arrived late 
in the evening in Florence, “the beautiful,” after 
a three-hours’ ride from Sienna, and found my¬ 
self in comfortable quarters, in a cozy little hotel 
on the banks of the historic Arno, within a stone's 
throw of the famous Ponte Vecchio, or Old 
Bridge, and near the centre of all the great ob¬ 
jects of attraction in the city. While sitting on 
che balcony of the hostelry overlooking the river, 
and enjoying the cool evening air, the sounds of 
sweet melody arrested my attention coming from 
the street below. A crowd of strolling Italian 
singers, all men, had grouped themselves in front 
of the hotel and proceeded to entertain the guests 
with a variety of operatic selections. Their ef¬ 
forts were rewarded after each number with a 
shower of small coins, for which there was a vig¬ 
orous scramble among the performers. Two of 
them sang in falsetto so perfectly that it was diffi¬ 
cult to realize that one was not listening to 
women’s voices. Two mandolins furnished the 
instrumental part of the concert, which was of 
excellent quality and would have reflected credit 


Italy. 


327 


on the leading members of the average grand 
opera troupe. It was my first experience of this 
feature of Italian evening life in the summer 
season, and afforded a delightful introduction to 
my sojourn among the Florentines. 

Close by the hotel stands the parish church of 
St. Nicholas, whose kindly old pastor informed 
me that it was the oldest church in the city, hav¬ 
ing been built about 1,100 years ago. Despite its 
great age, its solid exterior walls and its massive 
pillars that adorn the nave afford little evidence 
of the lapse of time, and in all probability the 
venerable edifice will continue for centuries to 
come to fulfill its mission as a house of God and 
a home for prayer and sacrifice. It has seen in 
its long history the rise and development of Flor¬ 
ence from a mere obscure municipality under 
the Roman Empire to its later proud position as 
a great mediaeval republic and as the home of 
that revival of the arts and sciences known as the 
Renaissance, which has conferred on the Tuscan 
capital imperishable renown. Like the Ponte 
Vecchio, not far away, it is one of the landmarks 
of Florence. The latter structure is more than 
five hundred years old, and is lined on both sides 
with jeweler’s and goldsmith’s shops, in one of 
which three hundred years ago worked Beneve- 
nuto Cellini. It is unique among bridges in that 
it has two stories, the upper being merely a pas¬ 
sageway to connect the Palace of the Uffizi on 
one side of the river with the Pitti Palace on the 
22 


328 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

other. It is enclosed, save for the centre, where 
a wide portico under three graceful arches af¬ 
fords a pleasing view up and down the Arno. 
The solidity of construction for which Florence 
is famous is evident in this fine old bridge, which 
has withstood for ages the fierce floods that at 
times have swept down the river, and the wear 
and tear of a ceaseless volume of traffic of all 
kinds. 

The chief place of interest to the student of 
Florentine life, however, is the Piazza della Sig- 
noria, or Square of the Senate, the Forum of the 
Old Republic, the scene of the most stirring 
events in the history of the city. In its broad 
open space the famous Dominican friar, Savona¬ 
rola, was burned at the stake, with several of his 
companions, in 1408. A round brass tablet now 
marks the spot. The erection of his statue at the 
foot of Luther's monument at Worms as a re¬ 
puted forerunner of the Reformation, is entirely 
unwarranted by modern historical research. He 
was not a heretic in matters of faith, and died 
proclaiming his communion with the Church of 
his baptism. 

Fronting the Piazza stands the Palazzo Vec- 
chio, or Old Palace, a huge gloomy building of 
rough stone finished in 1314, and at present used 
as the City Hall. It served as a Senate House 
during the republic, and afterwards as the resi¬ 
dence of the Medici, that famous family which 
gave eight dukes to Tuscany, two queens to 


Italy. 


329 


France and four Popes to the Church. Like 
the majority of the public institutions of Flor¬ 
ence, it is constructed on massive lines, on which 
Time seems to make no visible impression. Its 
history is bound up with the most turbulent pe¬ 
riod of the republic, when domestic feuds, for¬ 
eign wars and invasions, assassination and treach¬ 
ery were the order of the day. 

In the south corner of the same square stands 
the renowned portico of the Lancers, an open 
vaulted hall of magnificent proportions, erected 
in 1376. It is so called from the fact that the 
lancers or guards of the Medici, the former mas¬ 
ters of the city, were stationed there; but the 
original purpose of its erection was to afford a 
place of shelter where citizens could assemble to 
discuss public affairs. At present it fulfills the 
function of a splendid open-air gallery, and con¬ 
tains a number of statues in bronze and marble 
of heroic size, which enjoy a world-wide celeb¬ 
rity. Amongst them is the famous bronze group 
by Benevenuto Cellini, representing the hero 
Perseus holding up in triumph the head of the 
monster Medusa, whose lifeless body he tram¬ 
ples under foot. Another is Judith with the 
head of Holofernes, by Donatello, erected in 
front of the Palazzo Vecchio after the expulsion 
of the Medici. These are the chief masterpieces 
of the collection, the others being of less im¬ 
portance. 


330 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

The chief object of interest in Florence, how¬ 
ever, as in most of the other cities of Italy, is the 
grand Duomo, or Cathedral, dedicated under 
the title of St. Mary of the Flowers, and ac¬ 
knowledged to have one of the most beautiful 
exteriors in the world. The spot upon which it 
stands has been used for Catholic worship from 
the earliest times. In 1298 the Republic di¬ 
rected Arnolfo de Cambio “to raise the loftiest, 
most sumptuous and most magnificent pile that 
human invention could devise or human labor 
execute.” Accordingly on the Feast of the Na¬ 
tivity of the Blessed Virgin the corner-stone was 
laid of an edifice which, until the building of St. 
Peter’s, was considered the largest church in the 
world. 

The glory of the Florentine Cathedral is its 
wonderful dome, surpassed in size, if not in 
beauty, by that of St. Peter’s alone. It is the 
work of Brunelleschi, the greatest architect of 
his age. When some one observed to Michael 
Angelo, who was working on his design for St. 
Peter's, that he now had the opportunity of sur¬ 
passing the dome of Florence, he replied: “I 
will make her sister dome larger, yes, but not 
more beautiful.” Such was that master’s infatu¬ 
ation for this exquisite architectural creation, 
that in his selection for a position for his tomb 
he was guided by the desire to rest in a spot from 
which its peaceful proportions were always 
visible. 



CATHEDRAL—FLORENCE, ITALY 














































Italy. 


33 r 

The facade of the Cathedral, although fin¬ 
ished as late as 1878, is undoubtedly unsurpassed 
by that of any other edifice in Christendom. It 
is an enlarged copy of the beautiful front of the 
Sienna Duomo, the walls being entirely covered 
with white and black marbles, skilfully diversi¬ 
fied. The effect is overpowering. The external 
ornaments and tracery are wrought with exquis¬ 
ite delicacy, and the porches represent the best 
works of some of the most famous artists. The 
Italian Gothic style has been employed with 
marvelous results, a striking evidence that Flor¬ 
entine art of today is by no means unworthy of 
its glorious past. 

The interior of the great church is disappoint¬ 
ing, compared with its external magnificence. 
Though vast in its dimensions, it is bare and al¬ 
most devoid of ornamentation, such as one sees 
in the great majority of Italian cathedrals. 
Standing under its glorious dome, however, one 
forgets these minor details, and is lost in wonder 
and admiration at the genius of the man whose 
daring achievements marked an epoch in the his¬ 
tory of architecture. Other great domes, like 
those of the Pantheon at Rome and St. Sophia’s 
at Constantinople, were designed principally for 
their interior effect, but the creation of Brunel¬ 
leschi, while grand within, is even more impos¬ 
ing from without. At first it is difficult to realize 
its gigantic size, so perfect is its symmetry and 
so harmonious with the rest of the cathedral are 


332 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


its vast proportions; but the marble lantern on* 
its summit is really more than seventy feet in 
height, and would itself, if placed on the level 
earth, make a building of considerable size. 

One of the greatest historic events associated 
with this superb cathedral and which has en¬ 
shrined it in the hearts of the faithful for all 
time, is the celebrated Council of Florence, the 
Seventeenth General Council of the Church, 
which assembled within its walls, and at which 
all the schismatic churches of the East, through 
their accredited representatives, formally recog¬ 
nized the supremacy of the Holy Apostolic See, 
acknowledged the whole Catholic doctrine and 
polity, and returned to the unity of the kingdom 
of God. The example set by the orthodox 
churches of the Greek rite at Florence was fol¬ 
lowed not long after by the Maronites and many 
of the Armenians, Monophysites and Nestorians 
whose descendants have remained faithful for 
the most part down to the present day. 

Close by the Cathedral, and forming the oldest 
portion of it, is the detached bell tower or Cam¬ 
panile. Its foundations were laid with great 
pomp on July 18,1334, hardly three months after 
the appointment of Giotto as the architect of the 
sublime temple, the erection of which had just 
been decided upon. The church itself has been 
the admiration of all succeeding ages, but the 
Campanile is even more perfect in its beauty 
and fairly dazzles in its purity and whiteness. 


Italy. 


333 


Giotto, the designer, died before it was com¬ 
pleted, and it was finished after his death by 
Taddeo Gaddi. It is a square structure about 
300 feet high, in the same style as the cathedral, 
and, like it, richly decorated with precious 
marbles. 

Ruskin had an unlimited admiration for “that 
bright, smooth surface of glowing jasper, those 
spiral shafts and fairy traceries, so white, so faint, 
so crystalline, that their slight shapes are hardly 
traced in darkness on the eastern sky, that severe 
height of mountain alabaster, colored like a 
moving cloud and chaste like a sea shell.” “The 
characteristics of power and beauty,” he says, 
“occur more or less in different buildings, some 
in one and some in another. But altogether, all 
in their highest possible relative degrees, have 
existed, as far as I know, only in one building 
in the world, the Campanile of Giotto.” 

Nathaniel Hawthorne, in his Italian Note 
Book, is no less enthusiastic: “It is like a toy,” 
he says, “of ivory which some ingenious and 
pious monk might have spent his life time in 
adorning with Scriptural designs and figures of 
saints; and when it was finished, seeing it was so 
beautiful, he prayed that it might be miracu¬ 
lously magnified from the size of one foot to 
three hundred. This idea sometimes satisfies 
me as conveying the impression of how gigantic 
the Campanile is in its mass and height and how 
minute and varied in detail. Surely these me- 


334 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

diaeval works have an advantage over the clas¬ 
sic. They combine the telescopic and micros¬ 
copic.” 

In front of the Cathedral stands one of the 
oldest and most interesting buildings in the city 
—the Baptistery, or Church of St. John the Bap¬ 
tist, an octagonal structure surmounted by a cu¬ 
pola and apostrophized by Dante as u my beau¬ 
tiful St. John’s.” Although comparatively small, 
it was formerly the cathedral, and at present is 
used as a baptistery at whose font every child 
born in Florence is christened. 'Its world-wide 
fame, however, is not due to any particular 
architectural merit it may possess, but to its great 
bronze doors, which for centuries have excited 
the admiration of mankind. The first and oldest 
of these is on the south side. It was completed 
by Andrea Pisano, the pupil of Giovanni, in 
1336. The wonderful reliefs which cover every 
inch of its surface depict scenes in the life of the 
patron saint, John the Baptist, and represent 
forty years’ labor on the part of the distinguished 
artist. 

The second and third pair of doors were exe¬ 
cuted about a hundred years later by the fore¬ 
most master of his day, Lorenzo Ghiberti, and 
portray the life of Christ and incidents from the 
Old and New Testaments, respectively. So ex¬ 
quisitely finished are the latter that they drew 
from Michael Angelo the rare eulogy that they 
were fit to be the gates of Paradise. 



Italy. 


335 


My next object of interest was the Church of 
Santa Croce, or Holy Cross, erected in 1294 by 
the Franciscan Order. Of Italian Gothic style 
of architecture, it is an imposing temple, but 
owes its fame chiefly to the fact that it is the final 
resting place of many of the great men whose 
works of genius have reflected glory on their 
native city. It has been called the Westminster 
Abbey or Pantheon of Florence, and amongst 
the illustrious dead interred here is perhaps the 
greatest artist the world has yeti produced— 
Michael Angelo, painter, sculptor and architect. 

“In Santa Croce’s holy precincts lie 

Ashes which make it holier, dust which is 
Even in itself an immortality, 

Though there were nothing save the past and this 
The particle of those sublimities 

Which have relapsed to Chaos; here repose 
Angelo’s, Alfieri’s bones and his. 

The starry Galileo, with his woes; 

Here Machiavelli’s earth returned to whence it rose. 

“These are four minds which, like the elements. 

Might furnish forth creation—Italy! 

Time, which has wronged thee with ten thousand rents 
Of thine imperial garment, shall deny, 

And hath denied, to every other skv. 

Spirits which soar from ruin; thy decay 
Is still impregnate with divinity, 

Which gilds it with revivifying ray; 

Such as the great of yore; Canova is today.”* 

One of the most imposing mortuary monu¬ 
ments in the church is that dedicated to one of 
the world’s famous epic poets, and a Floren¬ 
tine —Dante. The massive sarcophagus is empty, 
however, as the ashes of the immotral composer 


* Childe Harold. 





33 ^ 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


of the Divina Commedia repose in the Church 
of St. Francis in Ravenna, whither he retired 
after his expulsion from his native city by his 
ungrateful countrymen. In vain they pleaded 
for his remains. With justice the Ravennese re¬ 
plied to their petition: “You exiled Dante when 
in life and set a price upon his head. With us 
he found a home and a grave, and here he shall 
remain forever.” Petrarch, likewise, whose fa¬ 
ther was banished from Florence shortly before 
the birth of his illustrious son, lies interred in 
the Tuscan city of Arqua. 

“Ungrateful Florence ! Dante sleeps afar, 

Like Scipio, buried by the upraiding shore; 

Proscribed the land whose name forevermore 
Their children’s children would in vain adore 
With the remorse of ages; and the crown 
Which Petrarch’s laureate brow supremely wore 
L T pon a far and foreign soil had grown; 

His life, his fame, his grave, though rifled—not thine own. 

“And Santa Croce wants their mighty dust; 

Yet for this want more noted, as of yore, 

The Csesar’s pageant shorn of Brutus’ bust, 

Did but of Rome’s best son remind her more. 

Happier Ravenna! on thy hoary shore, 

Fortress of falling empire! honored sleeps 
The immortal exile—Arqua, too, her store 
Of tuneful relics proudly claims and keeps, 

While Florence vainly begs her vanished dust and weeps. 

“What is her pyramid of precious stones? 

Of porphyry, jasper, agate, and all hues 
Of gem and marble, to incrust the bones 
Of merchant dukes ? the momentary dews 
Which, sparkling to the twilight stars, infuse 
Freshness in the green turf that wraps the dead, 

Whose names are mausoleums of the Muse, 

Are gently pressed with far more reverent tread, 

Than ever paced the slab which paves the princely head.”* 


* Childe Harold. 




CIIU11CII OF SANTA CIIOCB—FLORENCE 



























































































































Italy. 


337 


Amongst other celebrated churches in Flor¬ 
ence well worth a visit are those of St. Floren¬ 
tine, St. Ambrose, St. Mark, the church in which 
Savonarola preached with such fiery zeal and 
eloquence, and the scene of his greatest triumphs. 
In the convent adjoining the “Angelic Monk,” 
Fra Angelico of Fiesole, a Dominican, the saint- 
liest and the sweetest of the early fifteenth cen¬ 
tury painters, has given to the world a perfect 
museum of the finest pictorial art. The cells, 
cloister and chapter house are gorgeously deco¬ 
rated with matchless frescoes, which represent 
the most exquisite work of the later Giottesque 
period, as yet wholly untouched by the Renais¬ 
sance spirit. Fra Angelico is above all things an 
ecstatic and mystical religious painter. His 
panel works, it is true, may be seen in the North, 
but his infinitely greater skill as a fresco painter 
can only be adequately estimated at San Marco, 
where he was painting for his own brethren and 
the glorification of the Dominican Order. An¬ 
other illustrious master of the brush, Fra Bar- 
tollomeo,was a monk in this same monastery, and 
many memorials of his work and genius are re¬ 
ligiously preserved within it. 

When the Piedmontese Government succeed¬ 
ed in making itself master of Florence, one of 
the first acts of the new regime was one of spolia¬ 
tion and sacrilegious robbery. The monks were 
driven from the home which their brethren had 
established and occupied since the thirteenth 


338 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

century, and the property, with its priceless 
treasures, confiscated and converted to secular 
uses. So skilfully have the makers of ‘‘United 
Italy” corrupted public opinion, that the un¬ 
fortunate victims of their iniquitous measures 
and those who like them, out of a mere sense of 
justice and national honor, cry out against such 
methods of robbery and brutality, are denounced 
as public enemies and traitors of the State. 

The Church of the Annunciation, founded by 
a religious order known as Servites, is one of the 
most celebrated and beautiful, not only in Flor¬ 
ence, but in all Tuscany. Its portico, which 
faces the piazza of the same name, is composed 
of seven arches resting on seven Corinthian pil¬ 
lars. On the central arch is a fresco represent¬ 
ing the theological virtues, Faith Hope and 
Charity, painted by Jacopo da Pontomero at the 
age of nineteen years. Michael Angelo, when 
he saw it, declared that “if the youth continued 
in this path, he would raise painting to the skies.” 

The cloister adjoining the church was built 
towards the end of the fifteenth century. It is 
surrounded by frescoes, and over the entrance is 
the Madonna Del Saco, the most celebrated 
work of the great Florentine painter, Andrea 
Del Sarto. The latter in the days of his greatest 
poverty agreed wih the friars to accept a sack of 
flour for a Madonna he would paint for them. 
This masterpiece was the result, and in it the 
artist commemorated his bargain by represent- 


Italy. 


339 


ing St. Joseph leaning on a sack of corn. Basari 
declares that for drawing, grace, beauty and 
color, loveliness and relief, no artist has ever 
approached this fresco. Within the cloister is 
an exquisite chapel, richly adorned with fres¬ 
coes and statues and containing the tombs of sev¬ 
eral celebrated artists, among them Benevenuto 
Cellini. The church itself is richly decorated 
with stucco and gilding and filled with the works 
of the greatest masters. Its high altar appears 
to be wholly of silver. 

The Church of St. Lawrence, built by the Me¬ 
dici family, the former reigning grand dukes of 
Tuscany, is famous chiefly because of its sacristy, 
now secularized, which contains their mortuary 
monuments, considered to be the finest work of 
Michael Angelo, who also designed the build¬ 
ing. The figures that adorn the sarcophagi of 
the former rulers of Florence and which are 
known as Day, Night, Evening, and Dawn, re¬ 
spectively, are of heroic size and impressive in 
a measure, but on account of their complete nu¬ 
dity appear to be entirely unsuited to a religious 
edifice, and would more fittingly adorn pagan 
mausoleums than Christian tombs. 

In her vast and priceless galleries, however, 
the Uffizi and the Pitti, Florence possesses a col¬ 
lection of artistic treasures that easily establish 
her claim to be the centre of the world of art, 
past and present. No other buildings on earth 
contain such a wealth of masterpieces of paint- 


340 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


ing and sculpture. With the exception, perhaps, 
of the Prado gallery in Madrid, there is none 
which makes a more profound impression on the 
visitor. In a sense, the collection in the city by 
the Arno is unquestionably superior to that of. 
the Spanish capital, inasmuch as with the prin¬ 
cipal exceptions of Velasquez and Murillo, near¬ 
ly all the masters represented at Madrid were 
non-Spaniards, whilst here the great painters 
whose works crowd these extensive halls and 
corridors were for the most part Florentine or 
Tuscans whose genius has made their city glori¬ 
ous for all time. 

In the long corridor that runs under both 
wings of the Uffizi Palace and constitutes the 
ground floor, are a series of marble busts and 
full-length statues of illustrious Florentines 
which no other city of present or past times can 
equal. Amongst them are Leonardo de Vinci, 
whose name looms large amongst the world's 
greatest masters; Dante, the virtual founder of 
the Italian language, and one of the three great¬ 
est epic-poets, Petrarch, the composer of un¬ 
rivalled sonnets; Bocaccio, the singer of amorous 
themes; Machiavelli, the famous author of the 
“Prince;” Brunelleschi, the architect; Savona¬ 
rola, the reformer; Guicciardini, the historian; 
Amerigo Vespucci, the discoverer who gave to 
our continent his name; Fra Bartollomeo, Fra 
Angelico, Carlo Dolci, Andrea Del Sarto, Ben- 
evenuto Cellini, Donatello and Ghiberti, the 


Italy. 


34i 


sculptors, and last and greatest of them all, 
Michael Angelo. So magnificent a galaxy of 
celebrities, most of whose names are common¬ 
places throughout the learned and artistic world, 
have reflected a glory upon Florence peculiarly 
her own, and imparted to her name an imper¬ 
ishable renown. 

The upper floors of the Uffizi are so covered 
with art objects of every kind that weeks and 
months and even years would be required to do 
them justice. The visitor is dismayed by the 
physical task before him—that of walking for 
hours and hours through several miles of corri¬ 
dors and halls of the Uffizi and Pitti palaces, en¬ 
deavoring to get a glimpse of a portion of their 
illimitable treasures. The effort becomes fatigu¬ 
ing, and his artistic appetite is cloyed with the 
extravagant sumptuousness of the banquet 
spread out before him. For his relief, the cura¬ 
tors have set aside in each of the galleries a spe¬ 
cial room, which contains the choicest and rich¬ 
est gems of the entire collection. In the Uffizi 
the apartment of greatest value is a small octag¬ 
onal room called the Tribune. No single room 
in any gallery of the world contains so many 
masterpieces as this. Here may be seen as in a 
brilliant focus, works of Titian, Raphael, Mi¬ 
chael Angelo, Paul Veronese, Fra Bartollomeo, 
Domenichio, Guido Reni, Corregio, Fra An¬ 
gelico and others; besides these products of the 
painter’s brush, to add to the general effect, are 


342 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

five of the most renowned specimens of ancient 
sculpture, including the Wrestlers and the Ve¬ 
nus di Medici. 

The Pitti palace, on the other side of the 
Arno, with which it is connected by a covered 
way, whose walls are adorned with almost num¬ 
berless portraits of kings, emperors, popes,states¬ 
men, warriors and other historic celebrities, vies 
with the Uffizi in the magnificence of its art 
display. The paintings and sculptures in this 
building alone would be more than sufficient to 
establish the reputation of any city as one of the 
greatest art centers of the world. It is a huge 
prison-like structure of massive masonry, and at 
first sight strikes the beholder with a feeling of 
disappointment, if not repulsiveness. Though 
built more than three hundred years ago, time 
seems to have made no impression upon it, and 
its walls have needed no repairs or alterations in 
the lapse of years. Since the days of the Medici 
it has ranked as the chief Grand Ducal and 
Royal Palace in Florence. The richest gems of 
the vast collection are undoubtedly Raphael’s 
two world-renowned Madonnas—the Madonna 
of the Chair and the Madonna of the Grand 
Duke. « 

The exhibit of sculpture, ancient and modern, 
is unsurpassed by any other save that of the 
Vatican. 

The enormous mass of art treasures which it 
possesses, Florence owes in great measure to 



Italy. 


343 


that remarkable movement at the dawn of the 
fifteenth century, known as the Renaissance, of 
which it was the cradle and at the same time 
the centre. The “rebirth” of ancient art and cul¬ 
ture was practically contemporaneous with three 
momentous events—the downfall of the Greek 
or Eastern Empire, signalized by the capture of 
Constantinople by the Turks; the invention of 
printing from movable type, and the discovery 
of America. Many of the most distinguished 
scholars and artists who fled from the Byzantine 
capital when it fell into Moslem hands, found 
a warm reception and a hospitable home among 
the Florentines, amongst whom they enkindled 
an enthusiasm for Greek classic art and litera¬ 
ture that amounted to an intoxication. The 
fruits of one thousand years of purely Christian 
effort in the fields of architecture, painting, phil¬ 
osophy, theology and the profane sciences were 
contemptuously set aside, and in their place pa¬ 
gan ideals, pagan art and pagan culture were 
substituted. One becomes painfully evident of 
the lax conditions of public morality which pre¬ 
vailed in consequence of this reversion to pagan 
notions as he walks through the endless corridors 
of the Uflizi and the Pitti palaces and sees every¬ 
where staring him in the face the nude in statu¬ 
ary and in painting. This leading feature of 
modern art dates its revival from the influences 
that dominated and surrounded this neo-pagan 
movement. In the words of a distinguished 


23 



344 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Catholic writer and savant: “An extraordinary 
enthusiasm for antiquity had set in, combined 
with boundless freedom of opinion, with a laxity 
of morals which has ever since given scandal to 
believers and unbelievers alike, and with a festal 
magnificence recalling the days and nights of 
Nero's ‘golden house.’ The half century which 
ends in the sack of Rome by Lutheran soldiers, 
however dazzling from a scenic point of view, 
cannot be dwelt on with any satisfaction by any 
Catholic, even when we have discounted the 
enormous falsehoods long current in historians 
who accepted satires and party statements at 
their own value.” 

“The Renaissance,” he continues, “had indulged 
its pride of state, of knowledge and of system 
with disastrous consequences to our Christian 
inheritance. It trampled on the Middle Ages, 
and failed to understand that in them which was 
truly original. The showy architecture now de¬ 
signed, though sometimes magnificent, was not 
inspired by religion; before long it sank to the 
rococo and the grotesque, and it filled the 
churches with pagan monuments to disedifying 
celebrities. In painting we descend from the 
heaven of Fra Angelico to the ‘corregiosity’ of 
Corregio, nay, lower still, for Venus too often 
masquerades as the Madonna. Christian art be¬ 
came a thing of the past when the Gothic Cathe¬ 
dral was looked upon as barbarous even by such 
champions of the Faith as Bossuet and Fenelon. 


Italy. 


345 


Never did a poet inspired by Renaissance mod¬ 
els—not even Vida or Sanazzaro—rise to the 
sublimity of the ‘Dies Irae;’ never did that style 
produce a work equal to the ‘Imitation.’ Dante 
triumphs as the supreme Catholic singer; St. 
Thomas canot be dethroned from his sovereignty 

o 

as the ‘Angelic Doctor;’ still, as regards Faith 
and philosophy, he is the true ‘master of those 
who know.’ But Dante and St. Thomas lived 
before the Renaissance. It was not large or lib¬ 
eral enough to absorb the Middle Ages. Hence 
its failure at the beginning as a philosophic 
movement, its lack of the deepest human motives, 
its superficiality and its pedantries, hence after¬ 
wards its fall into the commonplace and the ex¬ 
tinction of art in vulgarity of literature. Hence, 
finally, the need of a French Revolution to teach 
it that life was something more than a ‘Carneval 
de Venise,’ and of Romanticism to discover 
among the ruined choirs and in the neglected 
shrines which men had scornfully passed by, 
tokens of that mighty mediaeval genius, Cath¬ 
olic, Latin, Teuton and French, misunderstand¬ 
ing of which was the folly, and the spoiling of 
its achievements, the crime that we must charge 
upon the Renaissance in the day of its power. 
‘It remained for a later day,’ says one who glori¬ 
fied it, ‘to conceive the true method of effecting 
a scientific reconciliation of Christian sentiment 
with the imagery, the legends, the theories, about 
the world of pagan poetry and philosophy.’ 



346 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

(Pater, Renaissance, p. 47.) Not less did it be¬ 
come the task of Goethe, Scott, Chateaubriand, 
Ruskin, of Frederick Schlegel, and the best Ger¬ 
man critics, to show that European culture di¬ 
vorced from the Middle Ages would have been a 
pale reflection of dead antiquity.”* 


* William Barry, Renaissance, Catholic Encyclopaedia. 



Italy. 


347 


VENICE. 

The railway from Florence to northeastern 
Italy crosses the main range of the Appenines at 
or near Pistoia, a town that has given its name to 
the pistol which was invented and first manu¬ 
factured there. It was formerly a place of 
some importance, but, like most of the ancient 
towns of Tuscany, it has fallen behind in the race 
of modern progress. As the train climbs the 
mountains for a distance of several thousand 
feet, the tourist may enjoy, spread out before 
him, some of the finest scenery in Italy—distant 
heights surmounted by the ruins of mediaeval 
castles, graceful villas scattered over verdant 
slopes, farmhouses standing in the midst of vine¬ 
yards and well-tilled ripening fields—a vista of 
natural beauty and idyllic peace which will long 
remain a haunting memory. The difficulties sur¬ 
mounted in carrying the line through this rugged 
mountain chain speak volumes for the skill and 
genius of Italian engineering. Tunnel after tun¬ 
nel pierces these precipitous heights, and steep 
grades are successively conquered until the train 
finally emerges on the broad plains and enters 
Bologna. Time did not permit more than a 
hasty and necessarily superficial survey of this 
most interesting city, which could boast of hav¬ 
ing established the first university in the world, 


348 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

with an attendance in the thirteenth century of 
more than ten thousand students, attracted from 
every country of Europe by the fame of its teach¬ 
ing facilities. Ferrara, the ancient capital of the 
Estes, now fallen from its high estate, since the 
Po has deserted it, and with its many memories 
of Tasso, the author of the immortal epic, “Jeru¬ 
salem Delivered,” was the next important stop¬ 
ping place on the way to Venice. 

“Ferrara! in thy wide and grass-grown streets, 

Whose S3 r mmetry was not for solitude, 

There seems as ’twere a curse upon the seats 
Of former sovereigns, and the antique brood 
Of Este, which for many an age made good 
Its strength within thy walls, and was of yore 
Patron or tyrant, as the changing mood 
Of petty power impelled, of those who wore 
The wreath which Dante’s brow alone had worn before. 

“And Tasso is their glory and their shame. 

Hark to the strain ! and then survey his cell! 

And see how dearly earned Torquato’s fame, 

And where Alfonso bade the poet dwell: 

The miserable despot could not quell 

The insulted mind he sought to quench, and blend 
With the surrounding maniacs, in the hell 

Where he had plunged it. Glory without end 
Scattered the clouds away—and on that name attend 
The tears and praises of all time. 

“Oh victor, unsurpassed in modern song! 

Each year brings forth its millions, but how long 
The tide of generations shall roll on. 

And not the whole combined and countless throng 
Compose a mind like thine ? Though all in one 
Condensed their scattered rays, they would not form a 
sun.”* 


* Childe Harolde. 



Italy. 


349 


Time, with its deftly moving fingers, has 
woven such a spell of history, poetry and ro¬ 
mance about the “Queen of the Adriatic’ 1 that 
the advice is frequently tendered to prospective 
visitors to arrive in Venice at night, at the period 
of full moon, if possible. Like the Colosseum, 
“it will not bear the brightness of the day” with¬ 
out parting with half of its enchantment. It was 
late in the evening of a starry but moonless night 
when I reached the Venetian capital, and stepped 
into a steam launch instead of a gondola to be 
conveyed to my hotel. Even Venice has yielded 
to the spirit of modern progress, and the motor 
boat threatens within a short time to banish the 
picturesque and historic gondola from the place 
of its birth. With its extinction will disappear 
one of the greatest charms of the age-old city and 
another page of its romantic history will be for¬ 
ever closed. Many glowing descriptions have 
been written by enthusiastic tourists of the de¬ 
lightful and unique sensations experienced in a 
ride through the Grand Canal by starlight or 
moonlight, when marble palaces, princely resi¬ 
dences, stately churches and imposing public 
edifices seem to rise before one’s astonished gaze 
like spectres out of the dark and silent waters. 
Silence reigns supreme in Venice. No roar of 
wheels disturbs the ear, no clanging of gongs of 
trolley cars, no harsh sounds from auto horns, no 
tramp of horses’ feet break upon the tranquil 
evening air. Its streets and commercial high- 


350 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

ways are watery lanes; its vehicles, gondolas or 
motor boats, which penetrate every section of the 
network of lagoons on which the city is built. 

The question naturally suggests itself: What 
was the origin of this mysterious city? Why 
was it built amongst the marshes of the Adriatic 
within sight of the open sea? History tells us 
that, after the downfall of the Roman Empire, 
Attila, the “Terrible Hun,” the “Scourge of 
God,” who boasted that grass never grew again 
where his horses’ hoofs had trodden, entered 
Northern Italy with his horde of barbarians and 
laid waste the fairest portions of that sorely af¬ 
flicted land. Fleeing from the wrath of the sav¬ 
age invaders, a few hardy spirits took refuge 
amid the mud islands of the gulf, where they 
hoped to find security from attack and protection 
from the vengeance of their merciless foes. Ex¬ 
iles from the land, they cast themselves on the 
mercy of the sea. Never was confidence more 
richly rewarded. From a feeble colony of refu¬ 
gees, Venice became, in course of time, a mighty 
republic, and from its impregnable position sent 
forth its commercial and warlike expeditions to 
every part of the Mediterranean, established fac¬ 
tories and built fortresses. Not without ardu¬ 
ous struggles it became the most powerful and 
wealthiest of the commercial republics of Italy. 
It was largely indebted for its success to its fa¬ 
vorable geographical position, almost in the 
centre of the mediaeval world. At the time of 


Italy. 


35 1 


the Crusades the Venetian Republic occupied 
the foremost position amongst the states of Eu¬ 
rope, and its ambassadors enjoyed a vast amount 
of influence. This influence was sustained by 
enormous material resources. Venice had a navy 
of 300 vessels, manned by 30,000 sailors, and the 
riches of the world, whether obtained by legiti¬ 
mate commerce or the fortunes of war, were ac¬ 
cumulated in its 2,000 palaces and 200 churches. 
Even one of the islets upon which the city is built 
would have purchased a kingdom of Asia or 
Africa. One of the most magnificent capitals of 
the West had arisen upon banks of mud, inhab¬ 
ited formerly only by poor fishermen. The larch 
forests of Dalmatia had been cut down and con¬ 
verted into piles upon which to build palaces 
More than 400 bridges of marble joined island 
to island, and superb embankments of granite 
defended this marvelous city against the en¬ 
croachments of the sea. All of this grandeur and 
power and prosperity began to decline with the 
discovery of the New World and the circum¬ 
navigation of the globe. These remarkable 
achievements foreshadowed the decay of Venice, 
since the Mediterranean ceased to be the great 
commercial sea of the world and a new route to 
India had been opened. The growing power of 
the Turks crippled its trade with the East, of 
which it had for centuries enjoyed almost a mo¬ 
nopoly. Nevertheless, so great were its resources 
that for three hundred years longer it maintained 


352 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

its independence until its final extinction as a free 
and sovereign republic by Napoleon Bonaparte. 

Memories of its past glories still survive in its 
magnificent churches, sumptuous palaces and 
imposing public edifices, which silently though 
eloquently proclaim to the world what Venice 
has been. Time and the elements have dealt them 
severe blows, and though for the most part dingy 
and unattractive exteriorly, the richness of their 
interior adornment challenges the admiration of 
the beholder. 

The Grand Canal—the aquatic Broadway of 
Venice—the most unique thoroughfare in the 
world, traverses the city for about two miles in 
the shape of a huge letter “S.” Nearly all that 
Venice holds of interest to the stranger is to be 
found upon this world-famed waterway. Near 
its terminus towards the sea, in a comparatively 
narrow area, are grouped together its greatest 
monuments, which contain, as it were, in an epi- 
.tome, the history of the republic, the Ducal Pal¬ 
ace, the Cathedral of St. Mark, the Campanile, 
and the marble-paved piazza and piazzetta. 

Few edifices of world-wide fame have re¬ 
ceived a greater amount of praise or criticisim 
than St. Mark’s. Some have declared it ugly 
in its external outlines, squatty and unimposing. 
In the judgment of the writer, who, of course, 
does not lay claim to expert knowledge, com¬ 
pared to the magnificent cathedrals of Spain and 
the other cities of Italy, it lacks impressiveness. 




ST. MARK’S CATHEDRAL—VENICE 



























































Italy. 


353 


The exterior is sadly discolored by time, whilst 
the interior is rather dark and somewhat dingy. 
The four domes, however, and the upper walls 
are superbly decorated in gold mosaic by Byzan¬ 
tine artists of long ago, and in a measure justifies 
the claim that “it is the most richly adorned and 
highly colored of any Christian temple in the 
world;” or in Ruskin’s words, “a vast illumi¬ 
nated missal, bound with alabaster instead of 
parchment, and with porphyry pillars instead of 
jewels, and written within and without in letters 
of enameled gold.” 

St. Mark’s is undoubtedly the oldest cathedral 
in the world, having enjoyed an uninterrupted 
existence of nearly one thousand years. It is 
in the Byzantine style of architecture imported 
by the Venetians from the East, and the facade 
is adorned with five majestic mosaic pictures, 
representing episodes connected with the acqui¬ 
sition of the body of St. Mark. Over the portals 
stand six copper horses, which followed the car 
of empire from Greece to Rome and from Rome 
to Constantinople, whence they were brought to 
Venice by the doge Dondola, and for five hun¬ 
dred years adorned the entrance to St. Mark’s. 
At the beginning of the last century they were 
seized by Napoleon, when he became master of 
Italy, and transferred to Paris, where, in the 
shadow of the Tuilleries, they watched the tri¬ 
umph of the modern Cassar. After his defeat 
at Waterloo they were restored to their former 


354 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

captors and replaced in their old position of 
honor. 

No church in Christendom, perhaps, can claim 
a warmer admirer or more eloquent eulogist 
than St. Mark’s has found in Ruskin, whose 
vivid portrayal of its dazzling glories constitutes 
one of the finest bits of descriptive writing in the 
English language. “Beyond those troops of or¬ 
dered arches there rises a vision out of the earth, 
and all the great square seems to have opened 
from it in a kind of awe, that we may see it far 
away; a multitude of pillars and white towers, 
clustered into a long, low pyramid of colored 
light; a treasure heap, it seems, partly of gold 
and partly of opal and mother of pearl, hollowed 
beneath into five great vaulted porches, ceiled 
with fair mosaic and beset with sculptures of 
alabaster, clear as amber and delicate as ivory— 
sculpture fantastic and involved of palm leaves 
and lilies, and grapes and pomegranates, and 
birds clinging andfluttering among the branches, 
all twined together into an endless network of 
bows and plumes; and in the midst of it the 
solemn forms of angels, sceptered and robed to 
their feet, and leaning to each other across the 
gates, their figure indistinct among the gleaming 
of the golden ground through the leaves beside 
them, interrupted and dim, like the morning 
light as it faded back among the branches of 
Eden, when first its gates were angel-barred long 
ago. And around the walls of the porches there 



Italy. 


355 


are set pillars of variegated stones, jasper and 
porphyry, and deep green serpentine, spotted 
with flecks of snow, and marbles that half refuse 
and half yield to the sunshine, Cleopatra like, 
their bluest veins to kiss—the shadow as it steals 
back from them, severing line after line of azure 
undulation, as a receding tide leaves the waved 
sand; their capitals, rich with interwoven tra¬ 
cery, rooted knots of herbage, and drifting leaves 
of acanthus and vine, and mystical signs, all be¬ 
ginning and ending in the cross; and above them 
in the broad arches, a continuous chain of lan¬ 
guage and of life; angels and the signs of heaven, 
and the labors of men, each in its appointed sea¬ 
son upon the earth; and above these another 
range of glittering pinnacles, mixed with white 
arches edged with scarlet flowers—a confusion 
of delight amidst which the breasts of the Greek 
horses are seen blazing in their breadth of golden 
strength, and the St. Mark’s lion, lifted in a blue 
field covered with stars, until at last, as if in ecs¬ 
tasy, the crests of the arches break into a marble 
foam and toss themselves into the blue sky in 
flashes and wreaths of sculptured spray, as if the 
breakers on the Lido shore had been frost bound 
before they fell, and the sea nymphs had inlaid 
them with corals and emeralds. But above all 
towers the Cross.”* 

Adjoining the Cathedral and hardly second to 
it in interest, stands the famous Ducal Palace, an 
edifice which has no duplicate anywhere else in 
the world. It is difficult to classify it architec- 


* Stories of Venice. 




356 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

turally; and so many styles have been employed 
in its construction that Ruskin called it “The 
Central Building of the World .’ 1 Gothic pre¬ 
dominates in the lower stories, and the long ar¬ 
cades of marble columns on the ground floor and 
a similar one above convey an impression of 
majesty and symmetrical beauty that would be 
hard to surpass. Above them rises a vast expanse 
of variegated marble that lends to the building 
its unique significance. Some have ascribed to it 
a Byzantine origin, whilst others, with Ruskin, 
call it Renaissance. The great Council Cham¬ 
bers, the Senate Room, the Hall of the Ambas¬ 
sadors, and other apartments which it contains 
are, perhaps, the most richly decorated in the 
world. The ceilings and walls are covered with 
enormous masterpieces set in golden frames. 
They portray in vivid colors the past glories of 
Venice. One of them, a fresco by Tintoretto 
painted when he was more than eighty years old 
and entitled “Paradise,” is the largest oil paint¬ 
ing in the world. 

From these gorgeous gilded halls of state the 
visitor is conducted to the basement of the pal¬ 
ace, far down below the water’s edge, where 
were confined in horrible dungeons the unhappy 
victims of justice or tyranny in the days of Vene¬ 
tian sovereignty. The well-known Bridge of 
Sighs connects the two wings of the buildings, 
and after the sentence of condemnation was pro¬ 
nounced by the famous Council of Ten, the un¬ 
fortunate prisoners passed over this now historic 


Italy. 


357 


structure from whose windows they saw for the 
last time the light of day. One shudders to re¬ 
call his visit to those fetid cells, slimy with the 
dampness of the sea, enshrouded in darkness, and 
almost stifling for lack of ventilation. The 
grooves of the guillotine, where the knife of the 
executioner severed the head of the condemned 
from the body, and the holes bored in the solid 
masonry to allow the victim’s blood to flow into 
the canal, are still to be seen, and leave melan¬ 
choly impressions upon the mind of the beholder. 

One of the pleasant memories of a sojourn in 
Venice is the delightful concerts which are held 
in the great square of Saint Mark’s on summer 
evenings, when the city wakes to life and music. 
Thousands of visitors from every part of the 
world mingle with the native born and throng 
the piazza to hear the melodious strains of the 
military band of eighty pieces, whose broad and 
select repertoire includes the stirring airs of 
many nations. The martial strains of Sousa’s 
music found a responsive echo in the breasts of 
many American-born visitors as they listened to 
the familiar notes of “The Stars and Stripes For¬ 
ever.” During the day hundreds of pigeons 
flock to the piazza and hop about on the smooth 
marble surface, picking up the grains of corn 
thrown to them by visitors. In accordance with 
the custom, I purchased a bag of the cereal from 
a vender close by and began to take a hand in 
the fun. In a few moments I was surrounded by 
the feathery pets, who were so eager to secure 


358 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


the grains that they flew up and ate out of my 
hand. Several perched themselves on my shoul¬ 
ders, some on the rim of my straw hat, others on 
my arms, whilst three or four obtained a footing 
on the palms of my open hands, and even used 
these insecure positions as battlegrounds be¬ 
tween them, each trying to drive away his com¬ 
petitor. It was not only amusing, but decidedly 
novel, and the tameness of the birds is amazing. 
For centuries, according to Venetian tradition, 
they have enjoyed the freedom of the piazza in 
return for valuable services rendered to the re¬ 
public as carrier-pigeons in time of war. 

Another day’s sightseeing comprised visits to 
some of the principal churches of the city. This 
excursion naturally led me some distance from 
the Grand Canal, back into the interior, as it 
were, and it must be confessed that I was half 
sorry that I went, as my impressions of the beauty 
of Venice experienced a very severe shock. 
Some of the churches, it is true, were magnifi¬ 
cent, but the surroundings were almost as bad as 
at Naples. The streets are mere alleys, scarcely 
ten feet wide, dark, dingy and fairly swarming 
with the children of the very poor. Many of the 
shops are little more than holes in the wall, and 
the hygienic conditions under which the masses 
of the people live is utterly deplorable. The tene¬ 
ments are not, perhaps, so tall or ill-smelling as 
at Naples, but the general poverty seems to be 
about the same. There is not one wide thorough¬ 
fare in the entire city, although the canals are 


Italy. 


339 


bridged at every important crossing. The pedes¬ 
trian is in no danger, however, of being run 
down in the narrow streets by automobiles or 
other wheeled vehicles, as there is not one to be 
found in the town—not even a horse or a donkey. 
The glory of Venice is, or rather was, in the 
quarter lining the Grand Canal. After several 
trips along its entire length the conviction forced 
itself upon me that, whilst the view or experi¬ 
ence to the stranger is perhaps more novel and 
unique than to be found anywhere else on earth, 
it must be acknowledged that much of its splen¬ 
dor is departed forever; many of its historic pal¬ 
aces are but shadows of their former selves, and 
a century hence, in all probability, few will have 
survived the ravages of time and the corroding 
action of the sea upon their foundations. 

“In Venice Tasso’s echoes are no more, 

And silent rows the songless gondolier: 

Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, 

And music meets not always now the ear; 

Those days are gone—but Beauty still is here. 

States fall, art fades, but Nature does not die, 

Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, 

The pleasant place of all festivity, 

The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy ! 

“But unto us she hath a spell beyond 
Her name in story, and her long array 
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond 
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway; 

Our’s is a trophy which will not decay 
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor, 

And Pierre, connot be swept and worn away— 

The keystones of the arch ! though all were o’er, 

For us repeopled were the solitary shore.”* 


* Chilcle Harolde. 
24 




360 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


Venice is rich in splendid churches, whose 
profusion of many colored marbles recalls the 
days of her magnificence. After St. Mark's, the 
most beautiful edifice is, perhaps, that of St.Mary 
of the Jesuits, a Barocco building, richly embel¬ 
lished, the whole interior adorned with inlaid 
precious marbles, the walls covered with marvel¬ 
ous imitations of drapery and hanging curtains, 
consisting of white marble inlaid with green. It 
contains one of Titian's most famous master¬ 
pieces—the martyrdom of St. Lawrence—much 
darkened, however, with age. The Church of 
Sts. John and Paul is also a splendid edifice, the 
largest after St. Mark’s. It is a noble specimen 
of Gothic architecture, its broad nave supported 
by a double row of majestic columns and sur¬ 
mounted by a dome. Amongst its art treasures 
are paintings by Vivarini and Lorenzo Lotto; 
statues and other sculpture by Vittorio and Bar- 
tolo di Francesco; wood-carving by Andrea 
Brustolon, and several fine mortuary monuments 
of the doges. Amongst other notable churches 
well worth a visit are those of St. Maria For¬ 
mosa, St. Mary of the Miracle, St. Zaccaria, St. 
Maria del Carmine. The most widely known 
churches, however, are Sta Maria della Salute, 
across the canal from the Doges' Palace, and 
which figures in nearly all the paintings and en¬ 
gravings of that famous waterway, and St. 
George, on the island of that name. 



Italy. 


361 


Memories of Byron, the poet of Venice, are 
constantly recalled to the mind of the visitor 
during his sojourn in the island city. As most 
of the leading hotels are situated near the square 
of Saint Mark and the Ducal Palace, with its 
famous ‘‘Bridge of Sighs," the passer-by is fre¬ 
quently reminded of the English bard who has 
immortalized that comparatively insignificant 
structure in the well-known lines: 

“1 stood in Venice, on the bridge of sighs; 

A palace and a prison on each hand: 

I saw from out the waves her structures rise, 

As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand: 

A thousand years their cloudy wings expand 
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles 
O’er the far times, when many a subject land, 

Looked to the winged Lion’s marble piles, 

Where Venice sat in state, ’throned on her hundred 
isles! 

“She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, 

Rising with her tiara of proud towers 
At airy distance, with majestic motion, 

A ruler of the waters and their powers : 

And such she was; her daughters had their dowers 
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East 
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers. 

In purple was she robed, and of her feast 
Monarchs partook,and deemed their dignity increased.”* 


* Childe Harolde. 



362 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


PADUA—MILAN. 

A delightful atmosphere of medievalism still 
lingers around Padua, twenty miles by rail from 
Venice, the seat of one of the oldest universities 
in Europe, and the home of the great St. An¬ 
thony. It has thus far escaped the craze for 
modernism which has seized upon so many of 
the older towns of the Continent, and has made 
them as our great American cities—one just like 
the other. It is typical of the Middle Ages, 
with its winding, narrow streets, lined by ar¬ 
cades, with here and there irregular open spaces. 
The houses, for the most part, are solidly built, 
as was the custom of those times, and many of 
the public edifices are fine specimens of the 
architecture of the period. The municipal pal¬ 
ace, erected between 1172 and 1219, stands en¬ 
tirely upon open arches, surrounded by a loggia, 
and is covered by a vast roof, unsupported by 
pillars, and rising about half as high again as 
the walls. The great hall, 240 feet long, 80 feet 
wide and 70 feet high, is almost completely cov¬ 
ered with curious allegorical paintings in 319 
compartments, said to have been designed by 
Giotto, but entirely repainted after having been 
several times damaged by fire and water. 

The dominating feature of the city, however, 
and the secret of its attractiveness for pilgrims 


Italy. 


363 

and tourists from all parts of the world, is the 
great basilica of San Antonio, commonly called 
“il Santo,” which enshrines the remains of the 
world-renowned wonder-worker of Padua. It 
is a huge brick structure of mixed Romanesque 
and Basilica style, divided into three naves and 
surmounted by seven domes. The exterior is not 
strikingly impressive, whilst the interior offers 
little more than vast spaces of bare white-washed 
walls. Some of the side-chapels, however, are 
richly decorated. The high altar which encloses 
the body of the saint is a veritable triumph of 
art, made apparently of solid silver, elaborately 
chased. The chapel, called “Capello del Santo,” 
is filled with ex-voto offerings, and contains nine 
bas-reliefs by Lombardi, representing miracles 
of the saint; the chapel of the relics, in which 
is preserved the tongue of St. Anthony, and that 
of San Felice, are also full of works of art. 
Amongst the most celebrated painters who have 
contributed to the adornment of the basilica 
may be mentioned Mantegna, Paolo Veronese 
and Tiepolo. The church of Santa Giustina is 
also a notable structure, rivaling in impressive¬ 
ness that of “il Santo.” It is crowned with eight 
domes, and has fourteen splendidly decorated 
side chapels; it contains paintings by Giordano, 
Parodio and Paolo Veronese. 

The University of Padua, founded in 1222, 
and one of the oldest schools of learning in the 
world, is housed in a fine old classic structure 


364 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


dating from 1493, and possesses an interior court 
of great beauty, designed by Palladio. In its 
palmy days it numbered amongst its faculties 
the greatest names in every department of hu¬ 
man science. For centuries it enjoyed special 
renown as a medical and legal school, and its 
law faculty is even today considered the best in 
Italy. 

Leaving Padua, the tourist traveling west to¬ 
wards Milan, crosses the plains of Lombardy, 
which stretch to the horizon on all sides, like 
our American prairies. Unlike them, however, 
the route is thickly strewn with old, historic and 
picturesque towns and cities, which temptingly 
invite the student to break his journey and linger 
for a while amid their delightful haunts. They 
are surrounded, as a rule, by brick walls, serving 
as fortifications, and dominated by a huge castle, 
survivor of feudal days, when attacks from hos¬ 
tile invaders were a constant feature of the dis¬ 
turbed conditions of the times. Verona, the 
town associated in the minds of English-speak¬ 
ing people with memories of Shakespeare and 
his immortal tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, is 
the most important stopping place along the line. 
It is, perhaps, the most strongly fortified place 
in Italy, and, like Padua, has preserved in great 
measure its mediaeval characteristics. Lack of 
time prevented me from obtaining more than a 
casual glimpse of this most interesting city, 
whose long and stirring history and numerous 




CHURCH OF SAN ANTONIO—PADUA, ITALY 






















































Italy. 365 

historical monuments would afford ample enter¬ 
tainment for the studious traveler. 

Few cities impress the stranger at first sight 
more favorably than Milan, the third in popula¬ 
tion in Italy, and its greatest manufacturing cen¬ 
tre. It has been destroyed and rebuilt so many 
times in the course of its long and eventful exist¬ 
ence that there is little of the antique surviving 
within its walls, save the magnificent Duomo 
and a few other historic monuments. It is not 
only the most modern city in Italy, but also one 
of the most progressive in all Europe. Its broad, 
straight, well-paved streets remind one of the 
finest residential sections of our leading Ameri¬ 
can municipalities. In the famous Galleria Vit¬ 
torio Emmanuele it boasts of the largestandmost 
magniificent arcade in existence. The houses 
are generally from three to five stories high. 
Milan is easily surpassed by Rome, Genoa and 
Florence in the number of its sumptuous palaces 
of the aristocracy, though the mansions of the 
Visconti, Annone and Belloni still stand as sur¬ 
vivals of mediaeval glories, and are architectural 
monuments of a high order, containing many 
works of art. 

The world-wide renown of the city, however, 
centers in its marvelous Cathedral, the third in 
size of all the churches in Christendom, being 
surpassed only by the Basilica of St. Peter’s and 
the Cathedral of Seville. In lavishness and ex¬ 
quisite delicacy of exterior ornamentation, how- 


366 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

ever, it acknowledges no rivals in any part of the 
globe. The present edifice dates from 1387, al¬ 
though it stands upon the site of the ancient 
metropolitan church of the city erected in 836, 
under the title of St. Mary the Greater, which 
itself replaced a structure of the fourth century, 
spoken of by St. Ambrose in a letter to his sister, 
Marcellina, as “the great new basilica.” 

The work of construction was carried on in¬ 
termittently for more than five hundred years, 
and even at the present time is not entirely com¬ 
pleted. Napoleon, when master of Milan, took 
a personal interest in bringing to a successful 
conclusion the labors of past centuries, and by 
his directions the imposing facade was finished 
in 1799. The interior of the great church im¬ 
pressed me as quite bare, and lacking the rich¬ 
ness of St. Peter’s. It is constructed entirely of 
white marble, even the roof—quarried on the 
shores of Lago Maggiore— is about 500 feet 
long, 200 feet wide and 350 feet high, to the top 
of its highest pinnacle, with a transept 350 feet 
across. I ascended to the top of the spire, though 
the weather was quite warm and climbing de¬ 
cidedly uncomfortable, but was amply repaid by 
the glorious prospect which my eyes beheld. The 
vast plains of Lombardy stretched away to the 
horizon on every side, save where the Alps and 
Appenines formed the sky line. They were 
many miles distant, but the clearness of the Ital¬ 
ian atmosphere made them easily discernible by 




Italy. 


367 

the unaided vision. Below, the cathedral 
gleamed a perfect forest of spires, pinnacles and 
statues, bewildering in their very profusion and 
sculptured elegance. There are 98 slender tur¬ 
rets, each of which is covered by a statue; of 
these latter there are in all more than six thou¬ 
sand, two thousand of them adorning the ex¬ 
terior of the edifice. The Milanese have every 
reason to be proud of their superb Duomo, as it 
undoubtedly represents the highest level of dec¬ 
orative Italian Gothic art. The Cathedral of 
Seville possesses greater wealth and variety of 
interior ornamentation, but that of Milan far 
surpasses it in exterior beauty. It has been called 
by enthusiastic admirers the eighth wonder of 
the world. 

The glories of this magnificent basilica have 
stimulated the descriptive powers of the most 
noted writers of the different countries of Eu¬ 
rope, amongst them Theophile Gautier, who 
thus records his impressions: 

“When we look at the Cathedral from the 
square, the effect is ravishing—the whitness of 
the marble, standing out from the blue of the 
sky, strikes one first; one would say that an im¬ 
mense piece of silver lace had been placed 
against a background of lapis lazuli. This is 
the first impression, and it will also be the last 
memory. Whenever I think of the Duomo of 
Milan it always appears like this. The Cathe- 



368 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


dral is one of those rare Gothic churches of Italy, 
yet this Gothic resembles ours but little. We 
do not find here that sombre faith, that disquiet¬ 
ing mystery, that character of austerity which 
only selects from a subject what is necessary to 
bring you a step nearer to God; this is a Gothic 
full of elegance, grace and brilliancy. The deli¬ 
cacy in its enormous proportions and its white¬ 
ness make it look like a glacier, with its thou¬ 
sand needles, or a gigantic concretion of stallac- 
tites; it is difficult to believe it the work of man. 

a The design of the facade is of the simplest; 
it is an angle sharp as the gable end of an ordi¬ 
nary house, and bordered with marble lace, rest¬ 
ing upon a wall without any forepart, of no dis¬ 
tinct order of architecture, pierced by five doors 
and eight windows, and striped with six groups 
of columns, with fillets, or rathef mouldings, 
which end in hollowed-out points, surmounted 
by statues and filled at their interstices with 
brackets and niches supporting and sheltering 
figures of angels, saints and patriarchs. Back of 
those spring out from innumerable fillets, like 
the pipes of a basaltic grotto, forests of little 
steeples, pinnacles, minarets and needles of white 
marble, while the central spire, which resembles 
frost work crystallized in the air, rises in the 
azure to a terrific height and places the Virgin 
who is standing upon its tip, with her foot on a 
crescent, within two steps of heaven. In the 


Italy. 


369 

middle of the facade these words are inscribed: 
Manae nascenti, to whom the Cathedral is dedi¬ 
cated.” 

As to the interior, “the general impression is 
simple and religious; a soft light invites one to 
reflection; the large pillars spring to the vault 
with a movement full of vitality and faith; not a 
single detail is here to destroy the majesty of the 
whole. There is no overcharging and no surfeit 
of luxury: the lines fall on each other from one 
end to the other, and the design of the edifice is 
understood in a single glance. The superb ele¬ 
gance of the exterior seems but a veil for mys¬ 
tery and humility within.” 

The author of “Cathedrals of the World” 
says, in speaking of the view from the roof: 

“Do not attempt to count the statues, spires, 
finials, crochets and endless array of sculptured 
busts which the astonished eye beholds. Adam 
and Eve are there; a Rebecca by Canova; while 
the great Napoleon stands in marble on the prin¬ 
cipal nave. Carefully climb the dizzy height 
of the lofty pyramid which springs upward 
amid 136 lesser ones. * * * Under your 

feet the creeping arches, the springing parapets, 
the numberless gargoyles, the magnificent gal¬ 
leries, all set in consummate symmetry, appear 
to burst forth with new beauties as if by incanta¬ 
tions. A kind of shuddering awe seizes upon 
you as the bewildered eyes vainly strive to em¬ 
brace the immense space.” 


370 Glimpses of Latin Europe. 

The great basilica is not only the pride and 
glory of the Milanese, but is also a shrine of 
Catholic devotion, for it contains the precious 
remains of one of the church’s most illustrious 
saints and genuine reformers, St. Charles Bor- 
romeo, Cardinal and Archbishop of Milan, 
1564-1584. Raised up by God at a time when 
ecclesiastical discipline was deplorably relaxed, 
he proved himself animated by the spirit of 
Christ, when he sought to reform the Church 
in her members, not by destroying her, as Lu¬ 
ther attempted, but by stimulating anew the 
piety, zeal and self-sacrifice of her followers. 
As the founder of seminaries for the proper edu¬ 
cation of the clergy, his name and works are 
revered throughout the Universal Church. To 
the Milanese the great Archbishop’s memory is 
especially sacred, not only for his holiness of life 
and extraordinary virtues, but also for his heroic 
conduct during the terrible plague, which rav¬ 
aged the city and surrounding districts for more 
than two years. 

It was my privilege to celebrate Mass at the 
tomb of the saint, which is situated in a crypt di¬ 
rectly beneath the great transept cupola, and sur¬ 
rounded by a marble balustrade of exquisite 
workmanship. The remains rest in a coffin of 
crystal, covered with plates of silver, and the 
high altar and walls of this magnificent chapel 
are lined with the same precious material. After 
Mass the body of St. Charles was disclosed to 


Italy. 


37 * 


view, richly dressed in the cardinalatial and 
archiepiscopal robes, with the miter on his head 
and the episcopal ring of priceless value glitter¬ 
ing on one of the fingers of his gloved hands. 
The face is somewhat decayed, especially the tip 
of the nose, but the rest of the body, I was in¬ 
formed, was remarkably well preserved, in spite 
of the fact that the Archbishop has been dead 
more than 330 years! 

Next to the Cathedral, amongst the churches 
of historic importance, is that of St. Ambrose, 
built by himself in 380, and frequently restored. 
Here the great St. Augustine received baptism at 
his hands, and from the pulpit, still preserved, 
Theodosius the Great, Roman Emperor, was 
publicly denounced by the holy and fearless 
Bishop for his wanton massacre of the inhabi¬ 
tants of Thessalonica. The doors of this edifice 
are claimed to be identical with those which St. 
Ambrose closed against the famous ruler of the 
world, until he performed public penance for 
his crime. The altar is renowned for its jeweled 
magnificence. 

The Church of St. Maria delle Grazie, for¬ 
merly a Dominican convent, is also a noted ob¬ 
ject of interest to the visitor to Milan, as it con¬ 
tains Leonardo da Vinci’s famous masterpiece, 
“The Lord’s Supper,” originally painted as a 
refectory piece for the monks. 

Sixteen miles from Milan and four from the 
old university town of Pavia, the city of the hun- 


372 


Glimpses of Latin Europe. 


dred towers, stands a monument of ecclesiastical 
art that fairly rivals the great cathedral itself in 
interest—the “La Certosa.” A visit to this strik¬ 
ingly beautiful retreat constitutes one of the most 
memorable and delightful experiences of my 
European tour. It is at present in the hands of 
the Masonic Italian Government, who drove 
out the monks some fifty years ago and seized 
the property. The fruits of labor and love that 
these humble followers of Christ had expended 
on this monastery for centuries have been rudely 
appropriated by alien hands, and their ancient 
home declared a national monument. The great 
church is indescribably beautiful, especially the 
facade, which for richness and variety of orna¬ 
mentation is without a rival on earth. The 
highest level of Lombard architectural and dec¬ 
orative achievement has been reached in this 
superb edifice. The. interior is divided into 
three imposing naves by Gothic columns. The 
frescoes which cover the walls are nearly all by 
eminent masters, including Borgognone, Peru- 
gino, Mantegna and others; the choir stalls are 
perfect examples of the wood-worker's art, but 
the crowning glory of this magnificent monastic 
church are its marvelous altars, pronounced by 
competent critics to be unsurpassed for beauty of 
finish and choice of material. One gazes with 
wonder and rapture at these exquisite specimens 
of mosaic, inlaid marble baldachinos, encrusted 
with precious stones, which are duplicated no- 




THE FACADE—LA CERTOSA—PAVIA, ITALY. 















































Italy. 


373 


where else in the world. They are the work of 
two famous brothers of Pavia, the greatest 
mosaic artists of their day, if not of all time, who 
passed away centuries ago. The high altar, I 
was informed, required as much as forty-seven 
years for its construction! A thing more deli¬ 
cately beautiful could scarcely be imagined. 
The unsurpassed and unsurpassable “La Cer- 
tosa,” as long as it stands, constitutes an eloquent 
though silent refutation of the charges leveled 
against the monastic fraternities by their preju¬ 
diced and ignorant critics. They carried the cul¬ 
tivation of the fine arts to the highest possible de¬ 
gree of perfection, animated by no other desire 
than to consecrate to God and the service of His 
Holy Church the richest fruit of human genius. 
Their work abides, though calumny and infidel¬ 
ity would seek to bury it in oblivion. As Mr. 
Barr-Ferree, a competent critic and non-Catholic 
writer observes: “The Monks were the greatest 
of Christian builders, and carried their art, their 
method and their styles wherever they formed 
communities, which is equivalent to all Western 
Europe. 

It was a sacred duty of the Monks to labor with 
their own hands in the building of their churches 
and conventual buildings. Each brother, from 
the abbot to the humblest, deemed it a pious duty 
to aid in God’s work by building churches in His 
honor. The identity of the Gothic styles 


374 Glimpses of Latin EuPvOpe. 

throughout Europe is primarily due to this 
cause. But after the Monks came the lay build¬ 
ers, trained originally under monastic direction, 
who, like their predecessors, traveled from one 
part of Europe to another, each with his own 
rules of design and construction, peculiarly his 
own property, and likewise helping to distribute 
a single style of architecture over wide areas. 
* * * The Monks began the architectural re¬ 
vival of the twelfth century; the secular bishops 
carried it to its utmost logical point in the thir¬ 
teenth. Yet the building of monastery churches 
did not die out; the abbey church of St. Ouen in 
Rouen, one of the latest Gothic churches in 
Europe, is larger than the Gothic cathedral of 
that city.” 

The magnificent and spacious cloister ajoining 
the church is in harmony with the architectural 
beauty of the surroundings, and is considered one 
of the finest in Italy. 

My last days in this favored land were passed 
amid the entrancing loveliness of the Italian 
lakes. Leaving behind the heat and dust of 
Milan for the cool and refreshing breezes of 
Lake Como, I boarded a steamer, and for two 
hours beheld a succession of charming villages 
perched on the hillsides of this, perhaps, the 
most beautiful sheet of water on the globe, until 
Bellagio was reached, nestling like a sparkling 
diadem on the very edge of the tranquil waters of 





t*i m i 




HWW WWH Mi 


HIGH ALTAR, LA CERTOSA—PAVIA, ITALY 































* 



















# 




































Italy. 


375 


the lake. The setting sun and the towering Alps 
casting their dark shadows over its glassy surface, 
combined to form a picture truly ravishing. 
Lake Lugano, the second in the chain, is scarcely 
less picturesque than its sister Como. Both are 
surrounded on every side by lofty mountains, 
clothed in verdure to their very summits. Lago 
Maggiore, the largest of the three, as its name 
signifies, is especially noteworthy by reason of 
the magnificentviewwhich it affords of the snow- 
crowned Alps and the great Simplon lifting its 
hoary head high above its fellows. 

Rarely, indeed, can more delightful enjoyment 
be imagined than sailing these beautiful and his¬ 
toric lakes on bright summer days under a sky of 
deep azure hue. Italy, which claims them for 
her own precious jewels, is a wonderful land. 
No other country on earth has been so richly en¬ 
dowed by Nature and Art, and as I bid her a final 
farewell, after weeks spent within her borders, 
my feelings re-echo the words of the great Eng¬ 
lish bard who loved her with all the passionate 
ardor of his poetic soul: 

“Fair Italy! 

Thou art the garden of the world, the home 
Of all Art yields, and Nature can decree; 

Even in thy desert what is like to thee ? 

Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste 
More rich than other climes 5 fertility; 

Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruins graced 

With an immaculate charm which cannot be effaced. 55 * 


* Childe Harolde. 













INDEX 





















INDEX 


Abassidae, 52 

Abencerages, 69 

Abderraliman, 44, 52, 53 

Abdie, Jeanne, 154 

Academy of Medicine, 170, 171 

Aemelia Basilica, 251 

Actium, Battle of, 244, 285 

Adour, 149 

Adrian, 44 

Adrim IV., 252 

Adriatic, Queen of, 349 

Adriatic, 350 

^Eneid, 302 

Africa, 351 

Africanus Scipio, 44 

Ages, Dark, 38 

Agrippa, 290 

Agrippa, Marcus, 2S5 

Aguinaldo, 296 

Aguirre, Cardinal, 90 

Albaicin, 74 

Alberca, 67, 68 

Albigenses, 194 

Alcala, 100 

Alcazar, 44, 46, 47, 112, 120 
Alexander, 27, 261 
Alexander Severus, 282 
Alexander VI., 268 
Alfonso XIII., 138, 295 
Alfonso, 348 
Alfieri, 335 
Algeciras, 3 

Alhambra, 45, 46, 60, 62, 63, 65, 
66, 67, 69, 70, 71, 74, 76, 137 
Ali Mahomet, 261 
A1 Hakem II., 56 
Alonzo “the Wise,” 27 
Alphonsus VI., 117 
Alps, 71, 212, 214, 215, 216, 217, 
221, 366, 375 
Ambassadors, Hall of, 70 
Ambrose, St., 279, 337, 366, 371 
America, 78, 81, 147, 150, 268, 
304, 343 

Amiens, 113, 116 


Ancus Martius, 243, 287 
Andalusia, 34, 59, 75, 79, 80 
Angelo, 18 

AngoulSme, 174, 175, 178, 180 

Annibaldi, 240 

Ann one, 365 

Antioch, 294 

Antoninus, 202 

“Antiquities” of Josephus, 243 

Antony, 236, 244, 285 

Anthony, St., 362, 363 

Annunciation, The, 160 

Annunziata, Church of, 223, 338 

Appenines, 221, 300, 305, 347, 366 

Apparitions of Lourdes, 154, 161 

Appian Way, 278, 279 

Apocalypse, 108 

Apollo, Belvedere, 293 

Apollo, 311 

Aquae Salviae, 256 

Aquinas, St. Thomas, 197 

Augustine, St., 20, 247, 371 

Augustinians, 96, 104 

Augustus, 202, 203, 244, 285 

Aurelius, Marcus, 289 

Austria, 317 

Arabia, 13, 52, 108 

Arabian Nights, 46 

Aragon, 90 

Arcadius, 257 

Arch of Constantine, 243 

Arles, 195, 201, 205 

Arnolfo del Cambio, 266 

Armory, 82 

Arno, 227 

Amo, 326, 328, 340, 342 

Arqua, 336 

Asia, 351 

Asia Minor, 13 

Assyria, 246 

Athens, 270 

Atlantic City, 137, 214 
Attila, 350 
Avignon, 324 
Avila, 89 



INDEX. 


380 

Baeterra, Julia, 201 
Babylon, 247, 294 
Babylonia, 246 
Babylonian Capticity, 324 
Bagdad, 53 
Balearic, 226 
Baltimore, 229, 283, 298 
Baptist, John of Toledo, 104 
Baptist, St. John, 264 
Baptist, St. John, 334 
Baptistry of Pisa, 227, 230 
of Florence, 334 
Barcelona, 90 
Barili, 319 
Barr-Ferree, 373 
Barry, William, 346 
Basan, 339 
Basque, 80 
Basque, 135, 136 
Bavieca, 133 
Baylon, St. Pascal, 89 
Bayonne, 143, 148 
Beame, 149, 151 
Beccafinni, 3 
Bede, St., 239 
Belgium, 305 
Bellagio, 375 
Belloni, 365 
Benedictines, 96 
Benedict, St., 300, 312, 313, 315, 
317 

Bemheim, 167 

Bernadette, 156, 157, 159, 160, 
161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 191 
Berruguete, 73, 115 
Bethlehem, Babe of, 26S 
Beuron, 315 
Beziers, 201, 356 
Biarritz, 134, 143, 144, 147, 148 
Bisagno, 224 
Biscay, Bay of, 143, 149 
Bisogno, Monsignor, 252 
Bivar, Rodrigo, 130, 132, 133 
Black Sea, 221 
Boabdil, 60, 63, 72, 84 
Boccacio, 340 
Boissarie, e, 171, 183 
Bologna, Giovanni da, 228 
Bologna, 251 
Bologna. 347 
Bonanus, 229 
Boniface, St., 247 
Boniface, 286, 291 
Bonomini, 265 


Bordeaux, 174, 175, 179 
Borghese, 268 
Borgognone, 372 
Borromeo, St. Charles, 370 
Boschetto, 228 
Bossuet, 344 
Bourbons, 28, 86 
Bowden, 324 

Breakspeare, Nicholas, 256 
Bridge of Sighs, 356, 361 
Brisbane. Arthur, 295 
Bristol, 143 
Britain, 122 
Britannia, 3 
Broadway, 352 

Bruchesi, Monsignor, 92, 297 
Brunnelleschi, 330, 340 
Brussels, 170 
Brustulon, 360 
Brutus, 235, 236 

Burgos, 39, 68, 90, 123, 124, 126, 
128, 129, 133, 134, 137, 143 
Burgundy, 63 
Burke, Edmund, 138 
Byron, 29, 233, 238, 289, 361 
Byzantine, 197, 210, 343, 353 


Caaba, 53 

Caecilia, St., 280, 281, 284 
Caesars, 37, 44, 51, 200, 233, 235, 
240, 245, 247, 274. 294, 336, 353 
Cadiz, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 
30, 32, 33, 34, 35, 37, 47, 57, 61, 
137, 221 
Cairo, 4 

Calatrava, Knights of, 96 
Caldarium, 284 
Caligula. 244 
Callistus, St., 278, 284 
Caliphs, 13, 14, 16, 51, 52, 54, 56, 
66 

Calepodius, 278 
Cambridge, 251 
Campeador, 129, 132 
Campania, 300 

Campanile, 227, 323, 332, 333, 352 
Campo Santo, 224, 225, 227, 230, 
270, 273 

Campos, Martinez, 91 
Canada, 298 
Canadian College, 297 
Cannabiere, 211 
Canalejas, 101 


INDEX. 


381 


Canossa, 296 
Canova, 254, 335, 369 
Canovas, 99, 295 
Cape Horn, 138 
Cape May, 214 
Capitol, 287, 288 

Capitoline Hill, 282: Museum, 289, 
290 

Capuchin, 33 
Capucins, 209 
Carcasonne, 198, 200 
Cardena, 133 
Carlo Quinto, 61 
Carlos, Don, 86 
Carmelites, 96 
Cameval de Venise, 345 
Carpero, 120 
Carrara, 223, 259 
Carthage, 294 
Carthaginians, 25, 51 
Casanova, 99 
Castile and Leon, 37, 110 
Castile, 6, 73, 84, 111, 124, 130, 
132 

Cassian, 207 
Castellamare, 305, 306 
Castor and Pollux, 235 
Catacombs, 278, 280, 284 
Cataline, 244, 288 
Catherine of Aragon, 87 
Catherine, St., 319, 324, 325 
Catalonia, 80 
Cato, 290 
Cavadonga, 90 
Cavallini, 283 

Cellini Benevenuto, 327, 329, 339, 
340 

Cervantes, 122 
Charles I. of England. 120 
Charles the Fifth, 37, 46, 54, 63, 
67, 73, 79, 83, 85, 87, 106, 109 
Chartres, 113, 116 
Chapels of the Sacraments, 280 
Chateaubriand. 346 
Chateaubriand, 60 
Childe Harold, 233, 238. 240, 250, 
287, 290, 293, 335, 336, 348, 
361, 375 
China, 191 

Christian Brothers, 78 
Christopher Columbus, 41, 42, 49, 
50, 64, 83, 90, 122, 138, 222, 225 
Chrysostom, St. John, 247, 256, 
261 


Cicero, 236, 244, 288, 302 
Cid, 124, 129, 131, 132, 133 
Cid, 90 

Circumcision, 118 
Circus Maximus, 244 
Cirvilli, 292 
Clamores, 120 
Clapin, Rev., 297 
Clement XIII., 254 
Clodius, 244 
Cleopatra, 355 
Closeburn, Maria, 143 
Colosseum, 203, 236, 237, 239, 
240, 241, 242, 310, 349 
Comares, Tower of, 70 
Como, 374, 375 
Compania Transatlantica, 23 
Congress, International Eucharis- 


tic, 1 

62, 78, 139, 

298 



Constantine, 

112, 

205, 

211, 

242, 

243, 

256, 

257, 

258, 

262, 

263, 

264, 

265, 

266, 

270, 

271, 

272, 

275, 

276, 

277, 2 

78, 2 

89, 310 


Constantinople, 56, 247, 343, 353 
Copenhagen, 251 

Cordova, 34, 51, 52, 55, 57, 61, 137 

Cordovan, 16, 36, 54 

Corpus Christi, 28, 31, 40, 47, 61 

Corre del Palio, 323 

Corregio, 197, 341, 344 

Cornice Road, 215 

Corsica, 226 

Cortes, 28 

Cortez, 84 

Council of Florence, 332 
Crassus, 244 
Crawford, Marion, 268 
Cristina, Maria, 101 
Cromwell, 224 

Crusade, First, 194 ; Albigensian, 
200 

Crusader, 350 
Cuba, 41 

Cupid, House of, 311 
Cybele, 361 
Cyprian, St., 20 
Cyriaca, 271 

D’Ailly, Cardinal, 50 
Dacian, 290 
Daily Mail, The, 182 
Dalmatia, 351 
Damascus, 52, 53, 68, 206 
Dandolo, 353 


382 


INDEX. 


Dante, 323, 334, 335, 336, 340, 
345, 348 
Danube, 290 
David, 48 

Decressac, De, 175, 176, 179 
Demonthenes, 290 
Desplai, Prof., 185 
D’ If Chateau, 212 
Diana, 250 
“Dies Irae,” 345 
Diocletian, 112, 202, 206 
Diogenes, 290 
Dion Cassius, 309 
Discension, 114 
Divina Commedia, 336 
Dogens, 222 
Doges’ Palace, 360 
Dolci Carlo, 340 

Domenichino, 254, 283, 284, 292, 
341 

Dominicans, 96 
Dominic, St., 138 
Domition, 242 
Donatello, 329, 340 
Donatist, 206, 264 
Don John of Austria, 83 
Doric, 308 

Dorscher, Fenelon, 189 
Dorscher, Mrs., 190 
Dozous, Dr, 159, 162, 164 
Drake, 27 
Dresden, 82 
Dursus, Livius, 243 
Ducal Palace, 352, 355, 361 
Duero, 119 

Duomo, 227, 330, 331 

Edward VII., 144 
Eden, Garden of, 136, 354 
Egypt, 10, 13, 20, 107, 237, 244, 
246, 261 

251, 305, 314, 318 
Elba, 226 
Elfridius, 112 
Elizabeth, 122 
El Greco, 49, 86 
Encyclopedia, Catholic, 346 
Eugenie, 143, 145 
England, 23, 122, 123, 143, 144. 
Englefield, 122 
Ephesus, 267 
Epiphany, 118 
Erasmus, 65 
Escalante, 104 


Escorial, 103, 104, 108, 109, 110, 
127 

Espana, 49, 128 

Essex, Earl of. 27 

Estes, 347, 348 

Estrade, J. B., 161, 164, 165 

Estremadura, 110 

Esquiline Piazza, 267 

Etruscans, 318 

Eugenius, St., 118 

Eugenius IV., Pope, 240 

Eudoxia, 273 

Fabian, Pope, 195 
Felice, San, 363 
Fenelon, 344 

Ferdinand the Seventh, 43, 130 
Ferdinand, St., 37, 84, 113 
Ferdinand, 60, 63, 72, 76. 90. 115. 
268 

Fernando Columbus, 50 
Ferrara, 348 
Fields, H. M., 104 
Fiesole, 337 
Filipinos, 138 

Florence, 85, 230, 318, 319, 326, 
327, 328, 329, 330, 332, 334, 
335, 336, 337, 338, 341, 342, 
347, 365 

Florentino, St., 337 
Flowers, St. Mary, of, 330 
Foligwo, Madonna, of, 292 
Forum, Roman, 234, 235, 236, 243, 
245, 256, 257 ; Pompeian, 308 
Florentine, 328 
Fontana, 302 

Fra Angelico, 292, 337, 340, 241, 
344 

Fra Bartollameo. 337, 340 
France, 23, 84, 137, 142, 144, 146, 
148, 149, 150, 151, 169, 193, 
194, 195, 200, 202, 205, 206, 
213, 305, 315, 329 
Francesco, di, 360 
Frangipani, 240 
Francis I., 202 
Francis, St., 33. 138, 336 
Francis, 84 

Franciscan, 17, 18, 30, 96 
Franks, 199, 202 
Free Masonic, 282 
Friesland, 314 
Fulvius, Flaccus, 243 
Gabriel, Archangel, 160 


INDEX. 


383 


Gaddi, Taddeo, 333 

Gaditanae, 26 

Galilee, 220, 335 

Gallia Placida, 258, 259 

Garcia, 206 

Gard, 202, 204 

Gargam, Gabriel, 174, 175 

Gascons, 143 

Gaul, 202, 207, 2S8 

Gautier, Th<5ophile, 128, 367 

Gave, 150, 152, 154, 155, 159, 161 

Generaliffe, 74 

Genoa, 63, 215, 217, 221, 222, 
225, 226, 230, 273, 365 
George, St., 361 
Georgies, 302 
Germanicus, 244 

Germany, 85, 107, 248, 305, 314, 
317 

Ghiberti, 334, 340 
Giaova, 12 

Gibbons, Cardinal, 281, 283, 208 

Gibraltar, 3, 5, 6, 12, 211 

Gil Rodrigo, 120 

Giotto, 323, 332, 333, 362 

Giordano, 363 

Giralda, 43 

Gladstone, 231 

Gladstone, 317 

Gobelins, 101 

Goethe, 346 

Golden Fleece, 63 

Golden Gate, 138 

Gomez, 295 

Gonsalvo de Cordova, 84 
Gonzaga, St. Louis, 146 
Gospels, 108, 172 
Goths, 27, 37, 44, 45, 111, 136, 
153, 202, 203, 245, 290 
Goya, 86, 109 
Gracchi, 243 

Granada, 34, 39, 45, 59, 60, 61, 
64, 65, 66, 71, 72, 75, 76, 77, 
137, 143 

Grand Canal, 349, 352, 358, 359 
Greece, 108, 244, 290, 314, 353 
Gregory XVI., 261 
Gregory XI, 324 
Greeks, 211, 274 
Grimoard, William, 208 
Guadalquivir, 36, 37, 50, 53, 87 
Guadarama, 86, 103, 119 
Guicciardini. 340 
Guido, 85, 254 


Guistina, San, 363 
Guostics, 200 

Hadrian, 202, 275 
Elallam, 314 
Hannibal, 26, 27 
Hapsburgs, 28 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 227, 269, 
320, 333 
Heidelberg, 251 
Helena, St., 275, 276, 277 
Homans, Mrs., 132 
Henry VIII., 87 
Henry of Navarre, 150, 151 
Henry IV., 151 
Herald, New York, 167 
Herculaneum, 301, 307 
Hercules, Pillar of, 20 
Hermes Trismegistes, 322 
Hildebrand, 296 
Hispalis, 37 
Hoemans, Mrs., 132 
Holland, 109, 305 
Holbein, 109 
Holofernes, 329 
Holy Cross, 275, 276, 335 
Holy of Holies. 55, 277 
Holy House, 53 
Holy Sepulchre, 275 
Holy Stairs, 277 
Holy See, 260, 324, 332 
Holy Writ, 231 
Honorius, 257, 271 
Honorius, 310 
Horace, 25 
Horten sius, 244 
Humbert, 296 
Hun, 245 

Hun the Terrible, 350 
Hunniades, 15 
II ure, 204 

Iberian, 3, 51, 90 
Ildefonsus of Toledo, St., 89. 114 
Immaculate Conception, 114, 100, 
161, 162, 260 
Imola, 258 

Incarnation, 118, 322 
India, 244, 351 
Infantas, 101 
Innocent II., III., 2S2, 283 
Tnquistion, 28, 123 
Ireland, 248 
lrun, 137 


384 


INDEX. 


Irving, 60 

Isabella, 63, 64, 65, 72, 76, 77, 
84, 90, 115, 268 
Ishbilieh, 37 

Isidore of Seville, St., 89 
Islam, 13, 52 
Islamism, 12, 16 
Israel, 242 
Israelites, 48 
Italians, 211 
Italica, 44 


Italy, 

26, 85, 215, 

220, 

222, 

223, 

225, 

230, 

263, 

300, 

303, 

304, 

305, 

307, 

317, 

324, 

330, 

335, 

347, 

350, 

352, 

353, 

359, 

365, 

368, 

374, 

375 





James, Henry, 197, 198 
James I., 27 
James, St., 112 
Japan, 191 
Jerez, 35 
Jericho, 172 

Jerome, St., 104, 256, 292 
Jeronimus, St., 93, 97, 98 
Jerusalem, 10, 96 
Jerusalem. 53, 106, 111, 152, 237, 
242, 243, 266, 273, 275, 277 
Jerusalem Delivered, 348 
Jesuits, 96 
Jews, 111 
Jimena, 133 
Joana, 63 

John and Paul, Sts., 360 
John, St. of the Cross, 89 
John, St., Evangelist, 264 
John, St., Knights of, 96 
.Tohn, St., 109 
John, St., 334 
Joseph, St., 339 
Josephus, 243 
Joshua, 322 
Jove, 226, 287 
Judith, 322, 329 
Jugurtha, 288 
Julian, Emperor, 234 
Julius II., 275 

Julius Caesar, 27, 36, 51, 201, 205, 
207, 235, 236, 301 
Jupiter, 228, 275 
Juvenal, 26 

Labarum, 263 

Lago, Maggiore, 366, 375 


La Certosa, 372 
Lanciani, 242, 245 
Lancers, 329 

Langue d’Oc, 193, 201, 202 
Langue d’O’eil, 194 
Laoccoon, 292 

Lateran, St. John, 262, 263, 264, 
265, 266, 267, 270, 277, 2S9 
Lawrence, St., 103, 104. 224, 262, 
270, 271, 272, 298, 339, 360 
Law, Tables of, 275 
Lazarus, 207 
Leaning Tower, 227 
Leo, 56 
Leo XII., 259 
Leo the Great, Pope. 273 
Leo XIII., 262, 284, 295, 297 
Lentulus, 288 
Leon, 39 
Lepanto, 83 

Letters of St. Catherine, 325 

Levantines, 211 

Liberius, Pope, 267 

Lido, 355 

Lille, 185 

Lima, 251 

Lindsay, 228 

Line, la Linea, 6 

Lions, Court of, 68 

Lombardi, 363 

Lombards, 315 

Lombardy, 364, 366 

London, 24, 82, 143, 182 

Long Branch, 214 

Lorenzkirche, 117 

Loretto, 267 

Lotto, Lorenzo, 360 

Louis, St., 151 

Lourdes, 152, 153, 159, 164, 165, 
166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 172, 
173, 179, 180, 184, 186, 187, 
188, 189, 191, 192, 193 
Louvain, 251 
Louvre, 291 

Loyola, St. Ignatius of. 89,136,138 

Lucan, 51 

Lucina, 257 

Lugano, 375 

Luther, 267, 328, 370 

Lyons, 207 

Maeabeus, Judas, 242 
Maceo, 296 

Maehiavelli, 335, 340 


INDEX. 


385 


Macrinus, 239 

Madonna. 197, 210, 292; del 

Saco, 338, 342, 344, 345 
Madrid, 49, 62, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 
81, 85, 89, 93, 96, 103, 110, 111, 
119, 122, 137, 143, 298, 340 
Mago. 22! 

Mahomet, 259, 266 

Main Spanish, 27 

Major, St. Mary, 267, 268 

Mark, St., 337, 352, 353, 354, 355, 

Malaga, 35 

Mamertine, 273, 287, 288 
Mancha, La, 110 
Manichean, 199, 200 
Manlius, M., 288 
Mantegna, 292, 363, 372 
Marcellina, 366 
Maria delle Grazie, 371 
Maria, Maggiore, Sts., 262. 267 
Mariae Nascenti, 369 
Mariana, 130 
Maronites, 332 
Marison, Carrel 

Marseilles, 201, 206, 207. 209, 

210, 211, 212 
Martel, Charles, 202, 203 
Martinelli, Cardinal, 297 
Mary, St., Across the Tiber, 281, 
282 

Mary, St., del Carmine, 360 
Mary, St., Formosa, 360 
Mary, St., the Greater, 366 
Mary, St., of the Jesuits, 360 
Mary, St., of the Miracle, 360 
Mary, St., della Salute, 360 
Mary, Queen of Scots, 123 
Mass, 58, 66, 92, 105, 118, 251, 
252, 266 

Massabielle, 154, 157, 158, 159, 
166 

Mataafa, 296 
Maura, 95 

Maxentius, 241, 242, 263, 264 
McCullough. ISO 
Mecca, 53 

Medical Registration Bureau, 169, 
171, 173, 183, 184 
Medici, 328, 329, 339, 342 
Mediterranean, 135, 205, 206, 210, 
211, 212, 213, 215, 221, 350, 
351 

Medina, 65 
Medusa, 329 


Melchiades, St., Pope, 264 
Mendoza, 63, 72 
Mercy, Sisters of, 30 
Metellus, 26 
Metz, 170 
Mexico, 84, 104 

Michael Angelo, 273, 274, 289, 

292, 330, 334, 335, 338, 339, 341 
Middle Ages, 193, 200, 221, 226, 
296, 314, 318, 344, 346, 362 
Mihrab, 54, 55, 56, 57 
Milan, 279, 362 

Milan, 38, 205, 364, 365, 366, 367, 
371, 374 

Milvian Bridge, 241, 263 
Mirabeau, 212 
Mohammed. 14, 19, 52, 55 
90, 96, 110, 117, 131, 133 
Mohammedan, 10, 12, 13, 16, 17, 
43, 55, 195 

Mohammedanism, 20, 138 
“Moor,” The, 359 
Moors, 13, 14, 16, 18, 27, 34, 37, 
39, 43, 44, 51, 67, 68, 73, 84, 
Morocco, 8, 18 
Moro, Antonio, 88 
Moses, 273, 274, 322 
357, 360, 361 

Moslems, 13, 16, 17, 48, 49, 52, 
53, 60, 72. 73, 83, 111, 117. 
131, 135, 138, 250, 343 
Mozarabic, 117 
Monaco, 214, 215 
Mother, Blessed, 229 
Monophysites, 332 
Monte Carlo, 215, 217 
Monte Cassino, 300, 312 
Monti jo, 143 
Montreal, 89, 92, 297 
Montpensier, 44 
Mundar, 27 
Muhlberg, 87 
Murray, 120 

Murillo, 33, 49, 85, 87, 292, 340 
Museo, 49 

Myrtles, Court of. 67 
Nancy, 167 

Naples, 221, 251, 300, 302, 303, 
304, 305, 307, 311, 312, 317, 
358 

Napoleon, 204, 215, 253, 352, 353, 
366, 369 

Napoleon III., 143, 148 


386 


INDEX. 


Narbonne, 200, 201, 209 
National Pilgrimage, French, 160, 
180 

Nativity, 118 
Nelson, 23 
Neptune, Temple of 
Nero, 244, 279, 344 
Nestor, 226 
Nestorious 
Nestorians, 332 
Netherlands, 85 
Nevers, 163 
Newport, 147, 214 
New York, 209, 212, 295 
Nice, 210, 213, 215 
Nicholas, St., 327 
Nile, 71 

Nimes, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205 
Nimrod, 323 
Nineveh, 247 
Noble Guards, 297 
Normans, 315 

Notre Dame, 117; de la Garde, 
210, 212 
Numa, 243 
Numberg, 83, 117 

Oca, 130 

Occupation, Spanish, 41 
Odeum, 308 
lOivares, 86 
“Old Bridge,” 326 
“Old Glory,” 191 
Old Palace, 328 
Omar, 14 
Omeyeh, 52 
Orestius, 207 
Origen, 317 

Orleans Railway, 176, 178 

Orthez, i79 

Orvieto, 319 

Ostian Way, 256, 257 

Otavon, 120 

Otho II., 252 

Ottoman, 56 

Oviedo, 39 

Owen, St.y 374 

Oxford, 251 

Padilla, 110 
Padens, 266 

Padua, 251, 362, 363, 364 
Paganism, 200, 206, 244, 285, 310 
Palatine, 243, 244, 245 


Palazzo Yecchio, 328, 329 
Palazzo Publico, 323 
Palermo, 226 
Palestine, 251 
Palestine, 13, 108 
Palos, 90 

Pantheon, 224, 285, 287, 331, 335 
Papacy, 253, 282, 295, 296 
“Paradise,” The, 356 
Paris, 76, 119, 166, 167, 170, 174, 
251, 253 
Parodio, 363 
Paros, 258 
Parstum, 308 
Paschal I., 284 
Passion, 118 
Pater, Walter, 346 
Patrick, St., 248 
Pau, 149, 150 
Paul III., 289 
Paul, 269 

Paul, St., 256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 
261, 262, 265, 266, 288 
Paulicians, 200 
Paulo, Veronese, 363 
Pavia, 84, 371, 373 
Peace, Temple of, 243 
Pedro, Don, 45 
Pelayo, 90 
Pelops, 226 
Pepin, 253 
Peratta, 63 
Persia. 244, 246 
Persepolis, 315 
Peru, 84, 104, 251 
Perseus, 329 
Perugino, 283, 293, 372 
Peter, St., 245, 249, 250, 252, 254, 
256, 257, 260, 262, 263, 265. 
270, 273, 297, 316, 330, 365, 366 
Peter, St., 256, 263, 266, 275, 279, 
288, 299 

Peter of Toledo, 104 
Peter and Paul, Sts., 125 
Petra, 92 
Petrarch, 336, 340 
Pharoah, 4 
Philip, 63 

Philip II., 80, 83, S5, 87, 104, 
105, 106, 107, 109, 111, 127 
Philip IV., 86, 99 
Philip, New St., 28 
Philippi, 236 
Philippe, Louis, 151 


INDEX. 


387 


Phocia, 206 

Phoenicians, 25, 36, 110, 206 
Piazzo del Carapo, 3323 
“Pierre,” 359 
Pilate, 277 

Pillar, Our Lady of, 95 
Pisa, 225, 226, 227, 229, 230, 324 
Pisano, 319, 322, 334 
Pistoia, 3347 

Pitti Palace, 85, 327, 339, 341, 
342, 343 
Pitot, 204 

Pius, Antoninus. 203 
Pius X., 294, 297 
Pius IX., 260, 268, 270, 272 
Pius VII., 258 
Pizarro, 84 

Pliny, the Elder, 306, 307 
Po, 348 

Pompeius, Sextus, 27 
Pompeii, 301, 307, 308, 309, 311, 
312 

Pompey, 26, 36, 51, 206, 236 
Pont du Gard, 204 
Ponte del Mezzo, 227 
Ponte Vecchio, 326, 327 
Pontiffs, Supreme, 253 
Pontomero, 338 

Popes, 234, 246, 247, 253, 254, 
262, 266, 277, 280, 282, 289, 
291, 293, 294, 295, 314, 324, 325 
Porta, Santa, 265 
Portugal, 148 
Posilipo, 302 
Potsdam, 291 

Prado, 18, 49, 85, 86, 89, 99, 109, 
340 

Prague, 251 
Prince Imperial, 148 
Provence, 207 
Provencal, 194 
Pudrus, 266 

Puerta del Sol, 80, 81, 87, 100 
Purgatorio, 322, 323 
Pyramids, 315 

Pyrenees, 26, 135, 148, 149, 150, 
152, 189, 223 

Quattro Fontane, 267 
Quixote, Don, 122 
Quercia, della, 323 
“Quo Vadis,” 279 


Rabida, La, 90 
Raggi, 151 

Kampolla, Cardinal, 284, 285 
Raphael, 85. 88. 254. 286, 292, 
341, 342 
Raymond, 194 
Ravenna, 336 
Reformation, 150, 224 
Reformers, 120 
Repose, Chamber of, 70 
Republic, Venetian, 351 
Rembrandt, 86, 88 
Remy, St., 247 

Renaissance, 42, 81, 115, 318, 319, 
327, 337, 343, 344, 345, 346, 356 
Iteni, Guido, 109, 284 
Revaillac, 151 

Revolution, French, 150, 197, 345 

Rheims, 113 

Rhodes, 26 

Rialto, 359 

Rio Grande, 138 

Riquet, 201 

Riviera, 212, 213, 214, 215, 217, 
222 

Roch, St., 283 
Rockville Centre, 189 
Roderick, 111 
Roland, Madame, 146 
Romanticism, 345 
Romans, 25, 37, 45, 52, 136, 153, 
221, 235, 237, 300, 309, 311 
Romeo and Juliet, 364 
Rome, 25, 26, 27, 38, 51, 195, 203, 
205, 206, 232, 233, 240, 241, 

242, 243, 246, 247, 248, 249, 

263, 267, 268, 269, 273, 274, 

275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 281, 

282, 283, 287, 288, 290, 291, 

294, 295, 296, 300, 314, 316, 

318, 324, 331, 336, 344, 353, 365 
Romulus, 234, 243 
Rouchel, Madame, 170 
Rouen, 113, 374 
Rosary, Church of, 191, 192 
Rostra, 236 
Rossi, De, 266 
Rovere, della, 275 
Rubens, 86, 88 
Russia, 259, 261 
Ruskin, 333, 346, 353, 354, 356 

Sagasta, 295 
Saguntum, 26 


388 


INDEX. 


Salamanca. 41, 94, 120, 123, 251 

Salvador Del, 91 

Samson, 322 

San Lausan, 184 

San Lorenzo, 222, 223, 268, 270 

San Remo, 217 

San Sebastian, 137 

San Pedro, 133 

Sanazzaro, 345 

Sancta Sanctorium, 277 

Santa Fe, 64, 72 

Santa Croce, 275, 335, 336 

Santiago, 68, 73 

Santiago, Knights of, 96 

Sapho, 290 

Sardinia, 226 

Saracens, 136, 153, 200, 202, 203, 
207, 208, 226, 227, 315 
Sarto, Andrea, 229, 338, 340 
Staglieno, 224 
Saturn, 235 

Satuminus, St., 195, 196 
Savonarola, 328, 337 
Savoy, 286 
Scala, Santa, 277 
Scanderbeg, 15 
Scotland, 143 
Scaurus, Aemilius, 244 
Schlegel, Frederick, 340 
Scholastica, St., 316 
Sckylock, 359 
Scipio, 233, 235, 336 
Scott, 346 
Scourge of God, 350 
Seat of the Moor, 74 
Sebastian, St.. 283 
Segovia, 39, 65, 119, 205 
Semple, 123 

Senate, Square of the, 328 
Seneca, 51 
Seneca, 290 
Sephela, 36 

Septimus Severus, 235 
Sepulchre, Holy, 96 
Sergius III., 264 
Semin, St., 195, 196 
Sertorious, 26 
Sevenet, 176, 184, 185 
Servites, 338 

Seville, 18, 23, 24, 35, 36, 37, 38, 
39, 40, 44, 46, 47, 48, 51, 52, 55, 
57, 61, 68, 77, 79, 87, 99, 365, 
367 

Sfondrati, Cardinal, 285 


Shakespeare, 364 
Sidon, 247 
Sienkiewicz, 279 

Sienna, 318, 319, 322, 324, 325, 
Sierra Nevada, 60 
Signoria, Piazza della, 328 
Simplon, 259, 375 
Snow, Our Lady of, 267 
271 

Sion, 100 

Sistine Chapel, 291 

Sixtus, Pope, 267, 268, 269, 270. 

Sobiski, 15, 266 

Socrates, 290 

Solomon, 100 

Soko, 19, 137 

Sophia, St., 250 

Sophocles, 290 

Sorrento, 303, 304, 305, 306, 307 
Soubirous, Madam, 158 
Soubirous, Bernadette, 154, 155 
Soubirous, Mary, 154, 155 
Sousa, 357 

Spain, 3, 13. 16, 23, 26, 29. 30, 31. 

36, 37, / 39, 43, 44, 45, 49, 51, 

52, 53, 60, 62, 63, 64, 66, 72, 

75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 82, 83, 


84, 87, 90, 

93, 

95, 98, 

101, 

102, 

103, 

107, 

110, 

HI, 

112, 

113, 

119, 

122, 

126, 

127, 

128, 

129, 

131, 

134, 

135, 

137, 

138, 

140, 

143, 

144, 

148, 

193, 

249, 

352, 

365, 

367 






Spezzia, 226 
Stabiae, 306 
Staglieno, 224 

“Starps and Stripes Forever." 357 

St. Elena, 74 

St. James, 72 

Stephen, St., 197 

Stephen, St., 270, 272 

St. Quentin. Battle of, 104, 105 

St. Sophia, 331 

Stoddard, J. L., 303 

Stuarts, 143 

Sultan, 70, 74 

Sultana, 73 

"Sun,” New York, 189 

Sweden, 170 

Swiss Guards, 297 

Switzerland, 305 

Sybarites, 26 

Syd, 130 

Sylla, 26. 306 


INDEX. 


380 


Sylvester, St., 258, 262, 264 
326, 331 

Symonds, J. A., 322 
Syria, 53 

Tabb, J. B., 148 
Tajo, 111 

Tangiers, 9, 10, 16, 17, 18, 19, 23, 
24, 57 

Tantalus, 226 
Tarick, Gebel, 3 
Tarpeia, 288 
Tarquin, 235 
Tasso, 347, 359 
Tatius, 234 

Teba, Countess of, 143 
Telemachus, St., 310 
Tenier, 86 
Terence,290 
Terror, Reign of, 146 
Teresa, St., 89 
Tessier, Dr., 179, 185 
Theodosius, 258, 273 
Theodosius the Great, 44, 257, 371 
Theophrastus, 290 
Thessalonica, 371 
Thomas, St., 345 
Thompson, Rt. Rev., 6 
Thucydides, 290 
Tiber, 233 
Tiber, 294 
Tiberius, 244 
Tiepolo, 363 
Tierra de Campos, 123 
Tintoretto, 85, 109, 356 
Titian, 85, 87, 109. 341, 360 
Titus, 237, 242, 243, 266 
Toledo, 37, 39, 55, 65, 68, 79, 90, 
110, 111, 112, 114, 116, 117, 
118, 119, 120, 137 
Torquato, 348 
Torre del Oro, 37 
Torre del Mangia, 323 
Toulon, 212 

Toulouse, 143, 193, 194, 195, 198. 
Trafalgar, 23 
“Transfiguration,” 292 
Trappists, 280 
Trastevere, 284 

Trastevere, Sta Maria, 278, 281, 
284 

Travertine, 237, 249 
Tre Fontane, 256 
Trebonius, 207 


Triana, 44 
Trinitanians, 96 
Triumvirate, 236 
Trojan, 119, 121 
Trojan, 202, 242 
Trophinus, St., 195 
Troubadours, 193 
Troy, 226 
Tudor, Mary, 87 
Tuilleries, 353 
Tullius, Hostilius, 243 
Tullius, Servius, 287 
Tunis, 209 
Turc, Cafe, 211 
Turk, 83, 343, 351 
Tuscany, 318, 338, 339, 347 
Two Sisters, Hall of, 69 
199 

Tyre, 247 

Uffizzi, 85, 327, 339, 340, 341. 342, 
343 

Ultima. Thule, 25 
Umberto I., 286 
United Italy, 338 
United States, 89, 298 
Urbana, 208 
Urban, St., 284 

Valencia, 94 
Valentine II., 257 
Valentinian III., 273 
Valerian, 270, 284 
Validolid, 64, 65, 79, 122, 123 
Vandal, 245 
Van Dyke, 86 
Vanutelli, Cardinal. 298 
Vatican, 265, 270, 287, 291, 292. 
Vega, Garcelaso, 83 
Vela, Torre de la, 71, 73 
Velasquez, 49, 85, 86, 109, 340 
Venice, 253, 347, 348, 349, 350. 
351, 352, 356, 357, 358. 359, 
360, 361, 362 
293, 296, 297 
Venetians, 353 
Ventimiglia, 226 
Venus, 311 ; di Medici. 342, 344 
Veran, 271 
Vercingetorix, 288 
Verona, 364 
Veronese, Paul, 85, 341 
Versailles, 291 
Vespasian, 237 


390 


INDEX. 


Vespucci, Amerigo, 340 
Vesuvius, Mt., 300, 302, 307, 309, 
312 

Vetii, 311 

Via Apia, 242 

Via Sacra, 235 

Via Triumphalis, 242 

Victor Emmanuel, 282, 286 

Vida, 345 

Victor, St., 207 

Victoria, Queen, 144 

Vigarini, 115 

Vienna, 82, 209, 251, 266 
Virgin, Rock of the, 147 
Virgin, Blessed, 33, 99, 101, 105, 
112, 114, 152, 160, 161, 171, 
186, 188, 267, 292, 330 
Villa Eugenie, 148 
Villa Franca, 214 
Vinci, Leonardo, 340, 371 
Vincent Ferrer, St., 89 
Vincent de Paul, St., 209 
Violet le Due, 199 
Virgil, 302 


Visconti, 365 

Visigoths, 13, 84, 202, 207 
Votivkirche, 209 
Vittorio, Emanuele, 365 
Vivarini, 360 

Wallencia, 130, 133 
Washington’s Monument, 229 
Waterloo, 353 
Wells, Nathaniel, 127 
Westminster Abbey, 118, 335 
Weyler, 295 

William of Innsbruck, 229 
Windsor, 291 
Worms, 328 
“Wrestlers,” The, 342 

Xavier, St. Francis, 136 
Ximenes, 114, 117 

Zamora, 130 
Zion, 250 
Zola, 166, 171 
Zurburran, 49, 86, 109 



fefe 89 
















7 >‘ 


^ 

* O 9 V 



. ^0* . 

^V*^V % * 

vv .? ,.., %. *** c f° ,.„ % 

. - ’SS ftiW fe* V«S* ° ^ 

%'C n ;^a^« *» 

■* 4 ? • H^SEr 4 v 



,J b ^ 


5 - 0v ^ 





0^ ,«‘J/« *^b 4^ «•!** T< £ 

C u *W%v\ o ^ ,«^<. V. * ♦ 

* v o K ,° 

» i?** a.* 10 * 

t* ^ *<?*^8S?** % rt 0 ^ ^ ^ 

^ .. % ** ,,e f° ^ -V* °^ * 

o . ** v ,*L/w' 




O • 


* ^ * 




• » if 


\ W v • 

.• / % *. 
* /y <k * 



♦ ^ 4,0^ * 

■• vr*. ► 

7 yJ* <? * 


< « 


.v** 

* 1> •%> *, 



O « » 


<* ^TT* ‘ <G V ^o. 

& v © ® w • ♦ *<>* *1* * * *c 

% C ♦WZfeT, ° ^ % 

: *<j* :&/%&?■' '*oi> ;• 

>* «5°^> -€§y§>» j.°v. ’.<^/. „■?.’ 

n * <?* 4— .' v£ ‘v, rt 0 ^ **<&?*%* at 

*0 •' 1 • • • *° ^ * *' <^r 

~ »:*> \> v *> v -i** 




• +♦ ** * 
* v^ • 

: **%> \ 



* ^ <$ * 
: *v • 


^ - ••■* a° 'V •• * 

" c° y*/r??L\ o A 



* c ^ ^ * 
°, v* v 

° ?% ° 


* <? >y, 4 

* ^ v ^ • 





* *y. 


\y m» *> 

V ^6 

5 *« 




.. 0° ♦* 

' 4 -°^ vSUR: *. 

' V J %.**••’•* ^ % '• «T. • ^o 

0‘ 4i*^ > v % *L1(L'+ 4 

°« % & '£MM' \ <? ” 

% .< V»^» ^ 0 7//v^P^v$v • J « V'^v k 

r * <y ^ 4 ^ 



t • 


<» ^TVT* ,0^ ^ 'o.T- 

# 0^ ♦ fc * * -* *o * ^ © 

' *F . (, v » O 



K* »<^ fgr . -^0* ’of r 

- 4°%. 'Z&Bf *& 0 * *-^K , ‘ ; 4°-^ \^y yjm . 

• o’ v^y “<>*^v \ -^v 

av ^ v ,0 V * * * «^ ©»v 

► *" ^ ^ <& .>W' 







o, 'a* ^ m-* <l v ^ ^* v 

* tvT* <0^ ^ 'o. . * A <^ <> 4 777' .(y ' 



O • 



% o ^ ^ 

v '^ - • * « ' ^°° ^ * * * ' * 

V * * 77c>- .<y „ t • ^ 

«- „»^j^f*, ”V ^ ^ ♦ 




v' .*;4> *v 

■•#• ^ v ‘ l ^fe-- ^ <^‘ 

«> f* °.rw 


y « 


vO V 



■&' * v 


*. W 



■j> o¥J®.W * aV V*i, * &%;>TA 4 Av ''a H&'W r * a V 7*, 

-'o. * - <\ 4 *..** i(r ^> '«. »* A <* 

r *0 xV c * * •+ <*V 0^ • 4 * *« ’^O e 0 * * 4 * 


lO -TV 

J> * * ^ * 

V) VC* * * * ■» 



• « o 


* .4. 

■«♦ a.K o * 

„ % * 

V vv 

* *» 'tv a- 

% / 


v ‘♦t;.* 


> r *% * 

•* *°° v 
*0" *'•£* *> 

& ^ a, 


,i^v ■.»: .va, ,i*v 

<N \S8e?,* Jp *y4$F\* 4 V V *A;§fP,‘ ^ V 

> AV V7 »« . , < A ^>k *j ,1 AV \» 

* • * «V“' Vfi * * -V v V* 4 * t * iU '- 

♦ Or # k ' # * V> V2v 6 oW «^ <sv (\v *«-'»* 

V- ‘v, «° ,-vrife- °^J .v<li& V. « c 


’bv 1 


*5 v : 

♦ + <L^ <V - , - .- 

• <y % "•*«* a 0 

i k, <o v i* 

4 ,JS*M'/?**.. ** TV XT' 

*, V,# * 




v* 


<sv 



- 2^l®isy • c,^ vrv ° v/7W\W * 

«>^itfffiBL»ar» 4 J V V^* * grVj 4 

'V* fr o '«* 1 * y 

7. •• ... >. a \ 


rj. .TP tj, • * ® 

**». *> y .*i^» V 

*. >*, v*. *YC$iHA V -j 

* ^ rj|i§|'- 

i, \yw$r>' ^"'v -.wwrt: iwMw: a^ v V 

V *'».,•** A >, 

, V A v c«“*^ V 

4 O * 1 "*^ * Va 

c 3 K V 

' ‘ ‘ T'ZlZ\' «5 V *.^i«^w. 

?,* * ^ j? 0 ->11^^,' 0 1 ' -it 

0 * 0 ' 'V *•»<’• a* - °a *•••• a° V *••*• 

^ > -^-*- v a* sgSbc- \ £ 'Mm* ++& 

'• J>'\ \WW: #*\ 

» a v v *,^v- ,# > 

• iG" <5> o • « * V v V» . •* iG 




J-°V 



HECKMAN 

BINDERY INC. 

JUN 89 



N. MANCHESTER, 
INDIANA 46962 




_ ^ > & 

^ *'*•''' ^ ** *° 

* .-.Sfe,-. ^ 4 .’ 



4 x 







































































































